Haunted Moon
by DeamonFruba
Summary: Together, Mulder and Scully face the terror of a madman under the watchful eye of the haunted moon. Can they survive and, when it's over and done with, can they find love? MSR AngstSuspenseRomance as written by Stephanie Kaiser. NOTE RATING CHANGE TO M
1. Chapter 1

**This, my lovelies, is a wonderful fic that I stumbled upon on one of the old Mulder/Scully websites that hasn't been updated since MAYBE the end of the show. I sent out an appeal to the author to let me repost and I am sorry to say that I think her email address is no longer used. So if she tells me later that she wants me to take it down, I certainly will without hesitation. So here it is: Haunted Moon. One of the few fics that has ever sent me screaming like a raving lunatic. **

**Rating: For now it isn't much but a T for language but it will very soon be turned to an M for adult situations and violence. (They don't appear in that order, by the way.)  
Spoilers: Not really...?  
Disclaimer: Again: I do not own the characters or the story although I DEARLY wish that I did. Live would be so much better... (And I don't know the author's name...sad.)  
Note to Readers: I did tamper a bit with the wording, a bit with the language, and the ending to make it more suitable for our finicky readers. Had to lower it to an M from an NC-17. Not much was changed though. Just wording, mostly. **

**ENJOY THE RIDE.

* * *

HAUNTED MOON**

She probably would have been more amused by this whole situation but her ass was really starting to hurt. They had spent two and a half hours on an airplane and the past three hours driving around, in her opinion, aimlessly on the back roads somewhere in Wisconsin.

Sometimes Scully really wondered why she was always so willing to pack a bag and chase all over the country with her partner. Her partner. She turned her head and studied Mulder's profile. A familiar sense of warmth spread through her, beginning in her heart and surging throughout her body. Then she remembered why.

He felt her eyes on him. He was always amazed at how physically aware they were of each other. All she had to do was enter a room and he instantly knew she was there. Professionally, it had saved their lives on many different occasions. Personally, he sometimes wished that _every_ part of his body wasn't so responsive to her. Evidence of her effect on him was beginning to manifest, and he was quickly becoming physically aroused. He took a deep breath and readjusted his position in the seat, trying not to further draw her attention.

Mulder shifted in his seat and she turned to face the window, trying to hide the smile forming on her lips. His ass hurt too. Good. He was lost. He hadn't admitted it yet, but he was lost. It wasn't that Mulder never did anything wrong -- he did. It was just that usually, when Mulder screwed up, her fierce sense of loyalty usually prevented her from rubbing it in. Tonight, they were alone, he was lost, and she was going to enjoy it. She just wished her own stubborn streak would allow her to get more comfortable.

He wasn't oblivious to her. He knew she was growing impatient. He had pushed his luck as far as he thought he was able too. It was time to admit defeat. Scully turned her attention back to Mulder as he slowed the car and pulled to the side of the road. He put the car in park, his eyes purposely staying forward.

"Go ahead Scully."

"Go ahead what?" She asked innocently. "Go ahead and maybe point out that you have no idea where we are going and haven't for the last hour."

"And...?" He might as well let her get it completely out of her system.

"And...If you had listened to me forty minutes ago we probably wouldn't be lost." She stated, crossing her arms smugly and leaning back into her seat

"Anything else?"

"Not right now," she began, seriously considering his question, "but I reserve the right to comment on the subject later."

"I'm disappointed in you Scully. You forgot to mention that not only did I get us lost, but I've been driving in circles."

"Circles?" Scully looked out the car window at the surrounding area. They were on a dirt road surrounded by fences, trees, and fields.

It had all begun to look the same to her. "How can you tell?"

"I recognize that cow," he said dryly, pointing out her passenger window at the cow standing behind the fence next to the road.

"Mulder," she sighed, shaking her head. She reached forward to open the glove box. Pulling out the map, she unfolded it and spread it out across the dash board in front of them. "What was the last main road you remember seeing?"

"County W, but that was over an hour ago."

Scully studied him for a moment becoming slightly suspicious as Mulder leaned forward to study the map. She pulled the paper away from his gaze.

"Well this isn't going to help." She said answering the questioning look on his face. "If we've been lost for over an hour, a map isn't going to do us any good. It's getting dark. We need to drive toward lights."

"Lights? Have you been hanging around me too long Scully?" He said with a touch of humor.

"Not lights in the sky, Mulder. Town or city lights, on the ground. My roommate in med school grew up in the Midwest and she had no sense of direction. When she would get lost, she would drive toward lights, figure out what town she was in and go on from there."

Mulder hesitated for a moment before putting the car in gear and driving forward.

"Lights it is. This roommate of yours Scully...don't tell me she became a surgeon."

"She's a brilliant neurosurgeon, just don't ask her which way is north."

"That's reassuring."

"So, if we've been driving in circles the logical thing to do would be to turn off on a road we haven't been on before."

"Pick a road, any road."

An unfamiliar uneasiness briefly spread through her and again she closely scrutinized her partner.

"I'm just trying to help you out Scully. Imagine how much you'll be able to gloat if you're the one that figures out where we are."

"Are you feeling all right, Mulder?"

"Just tired of driving in circles. What road should I turn onto?"

She watched him for a moment and then turned her attention to the problem at hand. There was a road coming up on the left that appeared to be well marked, at this point that was a good sign. She pointed ahead.

"Try that one: it looks like it climbs that hill. We'll be able to get a better idea of where we need to head."

Mulder slowed the car and turned onto the road Scully had indicated. Their silence became comfortable again and she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

"Tired?"

His voice was soft, soothing. She nodded.

"Maybe you should..."

Mulder's voice was cut short by two violent hissing explosions. Scully was thrown forward in her seat, the seatbelt snapping her back forcefully. She could barely hear herself think above the noise of splaying gravel as Mulder fought to control the spin of the car and bring it to a stop.

When the car was no longer in motion, Scully let out a long deep breath as she pulled the taut seatbelt away from her body. Mulder turned to her in concern, seeing her massage her shoulder where the seatbelt had restrained her.

"Are you all right, Scully?"

She turned her head and met the worry in his eyes. She nodded. Mulder tilted his head and glanced at her shoulder and then back to her eyes. She nodded her head again slowly. Their eyes held onto one another until she looked away and fumbled to remove her seatbelt.

"What the hell happened, Mulder?"

"I don't know."

Mulder was out of the car first and saw that the front driver's side tire was blown. A jagged tear separated the rubber.

"Flat tire." He reported to Scully as she stepped out of the car.

"Two flat tires." She corrected viewing the front tire on herside of the vehicle.

"What?"

Mulder walked to her side of the car and examined the tire that appeared to be identical to the one on the left side. He crouched down and explored the damaged surface of the tire with his hands. Before long he stood to face her, triumphantly holding a small but effective metal spike. Scully took the spike from him and watched as he moved back to the driver's side of the car. He began to examine that tire and within minutes he produced another metal spike.

"Someone around here is certainly friendly."

Mulder handed her the other spike, he began to walk back to where the car's skid marks started. Scully followed him and watched him push the gravel around with his foot.

"Do you think that someone did this on purpose?"

"I don't know that much about farm equipment but I somehow doubt that metal spikes would fall freely from a tractor." He bent down and ran his fingers over the dirt and pulled up two more spikes that had been hidden among the gravel. Mulder handed the spikes to Scully and pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket. He pushed a few buttons and studied it for a moment before shoving it back into his pocket.

"Damn. No signal." Mulder walked back to the car and opened the rear door and grabbed their coats and a flashlight. Slamming the car door he tossed her the jacket.

"I hope you're in the mood for a romantic moonlit stroll." He pulled his jacket on and stopped to help her on with her coat. "Do you have your gun?"

She nodded silently and took her place next to him as he began to walk down the road in the direction that they had been heading.

It was a beautiful night, a bit chilly though. Scully kept her hands snugly in the pockets of her coat, trying to protect them from the briskness of the air. A full moon hung low in the sky and seemed to illuminate all that it touched. Night had completely fallen, yet Mulder hadn't needed to turn on the flashlight. Moonlight guided their journey. A gentle wind directed nature's symphony, supplying a constant rustling of dried leaves, the sound of rippling water from a nearby pond and the occasional howling of the moving air itself.

Something wasn't right. It had begun to bother her in the car, and she just hadn't been able to put her finger on the source of her uneasiness. She thought back to what had prompted her suspicion and began to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Mulder?" She looked over at the man walking next to her, making sure she had eye contact before she continued. "You don't get lost. We've been partners for five years and you've never gotten us lost."

"There's a first time for everything. Sorry _my_ ability to detect which way is north failed us in the middle of nowhere."

She tried to read the expression in his eyes and on his face but found herself unable to. Damn, sometimes she wished this man had come with instructions.

She stopped walking and watched as Mulder took two steps forward and then turned to face her.

"I don't think so." She hesitated until she saw a faint trace of

Mulder-guilt pass over his face. "I'm not saying we're not lost. It was obvious by the way you were looking at the map that you don't know where we are. Every time we go out in the field, you've always been very meticulous about where we're going and how we're going to get there. The first time I even attempted to make the travel arrangements, you changed them."

"Are you saying I have control issues, Scully?" His voice betrayed the humor he was finding in her dissection of his character.

"I'm saying, you usually don't leave a lot to chance. So, that means--you turned off the main road and set about getting us lost on purpose."

He walked toward her and put his hand on the small of her back, gently propelling her forward to fall into step next to him again.

"Would I do something like that?" He asked feigning innocence.

"In a minute, if it somehow served your purpose."

"Scully, you wound me."

"Not in the last few hours, but the night's still young. Mulder, what are we doing here? What about this latest case requires that we get lost in Wisconsin?"

"Nothing specifically." He answered almost sheepishly. "I was following up on a hunch."

"A hunch? You told me we were investigating a missing persons case."

"I did some digging and contacted the sheriff who requested the help of the bureau. It turns out that multiple people traveling through this area have been reported missing in the last two months."

"Multiple?"

"Eight couples."

"Sixteen people? In two months? Why wasn't the bureau notified before this?"

"No one's proven that this is the exact area where they've disappeared. It's only been verified that they would have passed through here."

"Why did we have to get lost?"

"The last couple that disappeared had a cell phone that worked. They called the local authorities asking for help because they were unfamiliar with the area and needed directions. That was the last time anyone heard from them. Did you notice, Scully? We really are in the middle of nowhere. There are no houses, we hadn't passed another car since we turned off the main road and no one has driven by since we started walking. None of these roads are marked. The only road that had a sign was the one we turned onto."

"A road with metal spikes hidden on it."

"Exactly."

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier? Why didn't you just tell

me your theory?"

"You think _I_ have control issues?" This time Mulder was the one

to stop walking. He stood in front of her, forcing her to stop also.

"Chance isn't exactly your middle name either. It's why we work so well together."

He quickly turned and began walking again before she could reply. Before long he heard her footsteps behind him. He slowed his pace, letting her catch up.

"That's your theory on why we work so well together?"

He looked over at her and smiled devilishly.

"I thought it would sound sexist if I said it was because you looked a lot better in a skirt than my last partner."

Scully turned her face and pointedly stared into his eyes, dropping her chin and conveying directly with her eyes exactly what she thought of his attempt at humor. He grinned at her glare and chuckled softly under his breath. Silently he picked up his pace. Silently she stayed by his side.

Over the last five years they had developed their own specialized vocabulary. A raised eyebrow had become their noun, a simple touch replaced a verb and there wasn't an adjective in the world that could compete with a glance into one another's eyes. This language wasn't always effective, but it was theirs.

Scully hugged her arms around her waist and scanned the area, it still looked the same as it had when they had started walking. Even after discovering that Mulder's failed sense of direction was purposeful, the earlier sense of uneasiness still plagued her.

"Something still doesn't feel right."

"It's that time of the month."

Scully looked at him in disbelief, her steps slowing and her hands moving to rest on her hips. Mulder stopped and turned to face her, slightly confused for a moment at her obvious irritation, before a slow, full grin spread across his face.

"No. I was referring to the moon, Scully." He pointed directly ahead of them into the sky. "It's a full moon. People have been known to experience strange or abnormal feelings and behavior when the moon is full."

"A haunted moon." She stated reflectively as she began walking along the road again.

"What?" Mulder asked falling into step with her.

"When we were little my brother used to try and scare Melissa and

I on nights there was a full moon. He used to tell us that when the moon was full all the evil of the world was unleashed to haunt the earth. He called it a haunted moon."

"You believed him?"

"I was six." She justified. "It was about six months before I would go outside on a night when there was a haunted moon."

"Are you trying to tell me that if your brother hadn't scared you as a child you would be more open to my ideas?"

"Mulder, I've always been very open to your ideas."

Mulder stopped walking and raised his eyebrow questioningly at her.

"Must be an example of that abnormal behavior you were telling me

about earlier." She smiled.

"If you begin to experience any other impulses to behave in an abnormal fashion, let me know."

"You'll be the first," she promised.

They continued to walk. The wind was beginning to grow much stronger and clouds began to swirl menacingly in the sky. Mulder turned on the flashlight to light the road they walked. Occasional bursts of lightning assaulted the sky.

"Scully, I think we're about to get very wet."

"There has to be a house or a barn around here somewhere."

They reached the top of the hill they were climbing when another flash of lightning illuminated the area.

"Did you see that?" She asked walking rapidly forward.

"See what?"

"I think there's a house, down there on the left."

The clouds that had been hiding the moon separated and the valley below was temporarily visible. Mulder and Scully scanned the area, both coming to realize that the only shelter available was a large, dark, rundown farm house looming at the bottom of the hill. The moon disappeared again behind the clouds. The wind began to howl and Mulder was forced to yell above the sound to be heard.

"What do you think?"

"I don't think we have another choice. We'll never make it back to the car before the storm hits."

Mulder reached out, taking Scully's hand. They began to run down the hill. Large droplets of rain fell from the sky and deafening booms of thunder threatened from above. Scully ran blindly, trusting Mulder's lead as she did her best to shield her face from the shards of rain that beat against her skin. She felt herself being led from the road and she looked up to see where they were. The sight in front of her stopped her cold in her tracks.

The house that they had gotten a glimpse of from the top of the hill now towered above her. The house emitted an impression of foreboding ruin. Melissa had always told her that certain places or objects could give off an essence. She hadn't believed her, until now.

The structure stood two stories high and was encompassed in darkness. Its windows were boarded, as if to keep whatever was contained within from escape. Twisted, tangled vines clung to the exterior, the wind seeming to bring them to life as they reached out from the walls. Dead trees stood guard, launching their own attack against the outer surface of the wooden frame. A broken sidewalk crawled to the sagging porch that sat in wait for them.

Mulder felt the tug on his arm and turned to see why she had stopped. Noticing that the color had drained from her face, he took a step closer, trying to guard her from the pelting storm.

"We're almost there. What's wrong?"

She shook her head, indicating nothing. Taking the lead, she followed the shattered trail of cement toward the abandoned house.

* * *

**Hope that you like it so far. If I remember correctly the next chapter has fluff. Then angst. Then more angst. And even more angst. Then fluff is to follow, of course. Please review. And tell me if you want the web-address for the origional story. I will send it.**

**Deamon**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Cloans of cloans on a loan. The X-Files belong the Chris Carter (who better hurry it up with the second movie if he knows what's good for him) and this specific story was written by Stepenie Keiser on the Post-Mellenium Smut website. I found it and dug it up. If for any reason she asks me to take the story down I will.  
Rating: For now a nice round T. But in a couple chapters it will be boosted to an M for adult situations, sexual content, and torture. And language.

* * *

****Chapter Two**

The overhang of the porch protected them from the rain and the two agents took a moment to shake the excess of water off their clothes. Mulder reached for the doorknob and Scully quickly put her hand over his to stop him. He turned to face her and was surprised at the intensity of emotion he found in her eyes.

"I think we're fine right here. I don't think we need to go in."

"What's going on, Scully? This storm looks like it's here to stay for awhile. I know this place isn't The Ritz but it's got to be dryer and warmer inside than it is out here." He took her hands in his and began to rub them, trying to restore some warmth. "You're freezing. We need to go inside." He kept her hands in his and looked directly into her eyes.

"Mulder..." she hesitated and dropped her eyes, so that she was staring at their feet. "This place gives me the creeps."

"Please explain to me the scientific nature of the creeps."

Scully quickly raised her gaze, ready to tell Mulder exactly what path he could take to Hell; when she saw the look of pure joy and satisfaction on his face, the look of warmth in his eyes and the small grin shaping his lips. She shook her head in resignation.

"You've been waiting awhile to use that one, haven't you?"

"Yes I have." He answered proudly. "Scully, it's just a big dark

house, nothing else." His voice dropped and gently he reminded her with his eyes that he would be right there by her side.

She knew he was trying to appease her fear, and although his intentions were honorable she felt as though she were three and he was trying to convince her there wasn't a monster under her bed. He squeezed her hands, waiting for a sign from her whether or not to open the door.

"Fine. We'll go in." She conceded. Mulder had spent the last five

years protecting her from the monsters.

She knew he wasn't about to let any of them get to her now.

- - -

The door slowly crawled open, the protesting scream from the rusted hinges announcing to whatever waited within that there were visitors. Mulder cautiously stepped inside using the flashlight to take a thorough inventory of the darkened interior of the house. His grip on Scully's hand tightened in a reassuring squeeze.

Scully stepped inside the house. It was so dark, without the flashlight she was certain that she wouldn't even have been able to see her hand in front of her face. Her eyes followed the beam of light. They were in a hallway. Battered steps leading to an upstairs were on the left. The hallway was long and traveled the length of the house, several closed doors branching off from it. She followed Mulder into the room on her right. As far as she could tell it had once been a large family room.

Dust and cobwebs covered every visible surface. Sheets draped the few pieces of furniture that stood in the middle of the room. An old fireplace took up most of the far wall. Lightning flooded in through the boarded up windows and caused a deep shiver to trace its way up her spine.

"What do you think? A real fixer-upper." Mulder let go of Scully's hand and felt along the wall inside the door they had just come through. She heard the click of a light switch being thrown, yet the room remained bathed in darkness.

Mulder swept the flashlight around the room again and noticed a few candles sitting on the mantle of the fireplace.

"Scully? Remember this afternoon when we stopped at the diner? You wrote a phone number on a book of matches, because you couldn't find a piece of paper? Do you still have the match book?"

Scully patted the outside of her jacket pockets and then nodded. She pulled the matches from the pocket. Mulder took them from her and lit three of the six candles that sat on the mantle. The flames lit the room but they also cast ominously moving shadows onto the empty walls.

"I feel like I walked into an episode of Scooby Doo," he grinned at her as he turned off the flashlight and pulled the sheet off of the couch in front of him. A cloud of dust sprayed the air and Scully fought the urge to sneeze.

"All we're missing is the portrait above the fireplace with the eyes that follow you everywhere you go."

Mulder plopped on the couch, sending up another barrage of dust.

Turning, he looked up at her in surprise.

"Yes, Mulder, I watched Scooby Doo."

"Did you ever wonder about that show, Scully? Four unemployed college aged kids traveling around the country in a recreational vehicle."

"What's your point Mulder?"

"Makes me wonder what exactly was in all those Scooby snacks."

Scully wandered around the room getting a closer look at where they would be spending the next hour or two until the storm passed. Having an analytical conversation about an animated program she watched as a child would have probably seemed out of the ordinary if she had been with anyone but Mulder. At least they had moved away from the topic of Betty Rubble's bust line. The way his mind worked always mystified her. He was a brilliant profiler, had amazing attention for detail, and was probably one of the most intelligent men she had ever known. Yet here they were discussing a talking dog who chased after fake ghosts. Fake ghosts?

"I'm surprised you liked Scooby Doo, Mulder. Nothing they ever chased after was real. Not the lake monster, the Indian spirit, or any of the ghosts. It was always people dressed in costumes or video projection equipment."

"What can I say..." he shrugged, "I had a thing for Daphne."

"Daphne? She wasn't exactly the most intellectually stimulating of the group."

"I must have had a soft spot for red heads way back then too," he stated smoothly, just a hint of promising suggestion in his tone. "Stop pacing, come sit down."

Scully scanned the eerie room again before sitting down next to Mulder. Mulder watched as she attempted to settle her nerves. Her hands twisted around the fabric of the coat he had thrown across the back of the couch cinching it with a death grip. She checked over her shoulder, first in one direction and then turning her head she checked the other side.

"Scully?"

Her attention remained preoccupied with surveying the darkness.

"Scully," he repeated more loudly, causing her to jump a little and slide closer to him.

"What!"

Normally he would have grinned at making her jump, but Scully wasn't acting normal.

"What's wrong?" He asked, softening his voice and wrapping his arm around her shoulders attempting to make her feel protected.

"I don't like not knowing where we are and not having access to a phone or a vehicle. Sixteen people have been reported missing. We should have been more prepared."

His gaze held hers, but she saw his eyes cloud over.

_Shit_, she thought reproachfully, mentally cringing. "Mulder..."

"You're right, Scully. We should have been more prepared. I was anxious to get out in the field and I did it again."

"You did what again?"

"I woke you up at the crack of dawn and dragged you across the country."

"We were following a case, Mulder." She had unleashed the Mulder-guilt and now it was up to her to appease it.

"You haven't gotten any sleep. It's no wonder you're about ready to jump out of your skin."

"I'm fi..."

"Of course you're fine," he interrupted before she could finish the standard retort she used whenever she was anything but fine. "I slept on the plane and I know for a fact that you didn't."

Mulder removed his jacket from her hands and bunched it up in his lap.

"This storm doesn't sound like it's going to let up anytime soon. Why don't you lay your head down and rest. I'll wake you when the storm is over."

Scully looked from his eyes down to where he expected her to 'lay her head' then back up to his eyes.

"No Mulder," she stated firmly, attempting to edge away from him as she spoke. His arm around her shoulders held strong and he began to use that arm to urge her to lay her head in his lap.

Scully realized she had two choices, she could fight him and probably end up clumsily sprawled in his lap making them both angry and uncomfortable or she could relent and allow him to satisfy his guilt and try to comfort her.

In one quick motion she twisted onto her side and swung her legs up onto the end of the couch and oh so carefully rested her head on his jacket. Her eyes faced the fireplace and she could still look around the room. It wouldn't hurt if she pretended to sleep for a while until the storm had passed.

Mulder's arm that had been around her shoulders hung awkwardly in the air. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, after all, he had pulled her out on a case - yet again - without giving her all the facts. He had - yet again - made her go an incredibly long period of time without sleep. It had seemed like a good idea that she should get some sleep while she could. He didn't know how far they would have to walk when the storm let up. It had seemed like a good idea... but now he had Dana Katherine Scully lying with her head in his lap and he didn't quite know what to do next. Slowly and gently he brought her arm down and rested his elbow in the crook of her waist, his arm resting along hers, his hand on her shoulder.

"Don't drool on my coat."

"Mulder," she moved to sit up but his arm held her down with a gentle pressure.

"Shhhh...Close your eyes."

She knew that was the last thing she planned on doing as her eyes continued scanning the room.

"Do you want me to sing to you?"

"No, Mulder."

"Tell you a story?"

"No, Mulder," she sighed, shifting her weight a bit to get more comfortable as she burrowed further into his lap. The harder she fought to keep her eyes open the heavier they became. "You aren't going to fall asleep, are you?"

"No Scully, I'm not going to fall asleep."

She shut her eyes, promising herself it would just be for a moment when she felt his fingers rhythmically stroking her temple and running through her hair. Her eyes snapped back open.

"When I was young, when Samantha was only a baby, my mother used to do this when I couldn't sleep. It always helped me."

Scully's breath felt trapped in her throat with her heart. Slowly she took a deep breath, mentally instructing herself as to what came next.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Simple really, once you get the hang of it. After practicing a few more times, Scully closed her eyes and let her partner's gentle caresses lull her to sleep.

He felt the instant she fell asleep. Her body relaxed and her breathing became deeper. His hand continued the soothing stroking of her temple, his fingers delighting in the feel of her skin and her hair.

The storm continued to ravage the house from outside, the wind and rain hurling themselves against the old walls. Mulder could hear the battle against the structure and he briefly looked up when a small piece of wood covering the window fell victim to the onslaught and clattered to the floor. He quickly looked back to Scully to see if the noise had wakened her. She remained soundly sleeping.

His hand momentarily ceased running through her hair and took the luxury of running over her skin, down her cheek and tracing her jaw-line. He didn't get very many moments like this with her. He didn't allow himself moments like this one. Moments where he could just sit back and take in her beauty without her being conscious of his observations. They were always so on guard, guarding against those that wished to see them fail or hurt them. More often than not they guarded against each other. A protective professional barrier existed between them that had been necessary in the beginning. Lately it seemed that that barrier was laying in a crumbled ruin at their feet and they were crossing it with more frequency and more intensity each time they stepped over the once sacred wall of defense.

There were no barriers now. Scully slept silently in his lap, trusting that he would protect her while she slept. Not that his Scully would ever admit that she needed protecting. She was so strong, so much stronger than he was. His emotions he wore on his sleeve, she kept her emotions hidden. He was the one that would usually end up being comforted in her arms. He would be hurt or in shock and she would encircle him with her arms until he was stronger. The storm outside was roaring on but an unfamiliar sense of peace circled Mulder as he watched her sleep. His fingers returned to her temple and brushed her hair from her eyes.

Did she do this? Did she sit while she was holding him and stroke his hair or let her fingers travel over his skin? Did she hold her hand on his forehead longer than usual when she was checking for fever in order to prolong the contact between them? The night he slept in her arms in the woods or when they were out in the snow -- did she sit and take solace in his breathing? He wanted to wake her to ask her if she needed his touch as much as he needed hers. He watched her, her features peaceful and relaxed, and he knew that he couldn't wake her, as much as he wanted to. He would have time to ask her when she woke. His hand continued to gently stroke her face as the storm raged on outside.

The man watched the tender scene of the two people on the couch from a television monitor in the sub-basement below. His eyes glowed in excitement and madness. His breathing quickened as he watched the man comfort the woman while she slept. His pulse raced as he picked up on the deep feelings that the man obviously held for the woman. His pupils constricted as he considered what this couple had in store for them.

"They're going to be perfect," he informed the empty room as a maniacal snicker escaped his throat.

- - -

The wind and the rain continued to fight for control outside the broken house -- but inside Dana Scully was dreaming. Fox Mulder was about five minutes -- make that three minutes -- away from completely losing his composure and taking her right there on the musty sofa. She had been asleep for a little over an hour. The sweet torture had started soon after she'd drifted off.

Scully was an active sleeper. She restlessly stretched her legs, moved her arms and generally made his job as a human pillow uncomfortably difficult. The games had begun when she had turned over, so that if she had awoken, she would have been eye to eye with his belt buckle...then things had gotten interesting.

She had squirmed and he had moaned.

She had snuggled and he had groaned.

She had wiggled and he had whimpered.

She had twisted and he had wrapped his arms around her in an effort to keep her from falling off the sofa. Scully, in her state of sleep, had taken his arms being around her as an open invitation to crawl more fully into his lap and get more comfortable. Her head was now tucked securely under his chin and her butt was nestled snugly in his lap.

His arms held her tightly. He tried in vain to prevent any further movement that might cause her to shift against the lower part of his anatomy that seemed to be growing more and more interested in her unintentional seduction.

She was quiet and Mulder breathed a sigh of momentary relief. He quickly realized that any movement he made also enhanced his own discomfort. Everything would be perfectly fine as long as neither of them moved.

A loud clap of thunder rumbled through the house and Scully tried to physically burrow into his chest.

"Shh...Shh..." he whispered into her hair, his voice instantly calming her.

"Mulder..." she moaned in a deep throaty sleep-voice.

_Jesus, Scully,_ he thought cringing. One more moan like that and he was going to damn well finish what he had started in the hallway.

The hallway.

His eyes closed at the onslaught of emotions that suddenly overcame him. Weeks had passed and yet he remembered everything as if it were yesterday.

The hallway.

He remembered the warmth of her skin under his hands. His hand moved to cup her face while she slept, as it had that day. He remembered the anticipation and exhilaration when he had first realized what was about to happen. He was going to kiss Scully.

Her eyes had welcomed him. Her lips had waited for him. He had slowly lowered his head until the heat of her breath caressed his lips. If he kept his eyes closed tightly enough he could almost feel her lip brush his...almost.

Damn bee! Since that day he had added a can of bug repellent to his list of what he never traveled without.

He could have sworn that day -- in that hallway -- that he had seen want in her eyes. He had seen desire. He had seen love. The moment had been so fleeting, gone so quickly, that now he wasn't sure if he had actually seen those qualities or if his hopeful imagination had painted that look in her eyes.

They hadn't spoken of that day since they'd returned. She hadn't

mentioned it. He hadn't mentioned it. She had taken great pains not to

return to his apartment. Communication, unspoken. Sometimes their method of communicating -- by not communicating -- wasn't enough. Sometimes they needed words.

Scully snuggled closer and he tightened his hold on her. She sighed, content.

Maybe sometime was today -- was now. What if he had imagined it? What if the love he thought he saw in her eyes was only the reflection of the love for her in his eyes?

It had taken five years for him to follow her into that hallway and tell her what she meant to him. It had taken the realization of his worst fear for him to tell her. The fear that she would leave him. His head had told him to let her go -- she'd be safer without him. His heart had kicked him in the gut and made him go after her. He couldn't let her go without her knowing the truth he'd been carrying around within himself for so very long.

She had made him a whole person. Scully had filled his mind, his heart and his soul. How could you let half your soul walk out the door?

Damn bee! He would have told her that day. He would have told her that he loved her after his lips had left hers, but he didn't have the chance.

Everything from that moment until he got her back was a blur of agony. What do you do when half your heart is missing? You find it, or you die trying.

When they were back in DC, and she was safe, he had listened to his

head. He'd told her to leave him. He had existed for years without knowing what it was like to be complete, and he was willing to suffer the pain again if it meant that she would be safe. It would be harder now because he knew the fulfillment that she brought him, but he would push her away if that's what it took. She hadn't let him. She hadn't let him push her away. She had stood there, taken his hand and committed herself to him and his search -- their search -- more strongly than ever.

He opened his eyes and looked around the candlelit room. Where had their search led them this time? The middle of nowhere. One step forward, two steps back. A maddening dance that had become their lives. A dance, that alone, he would never have survived. Mulder dipped his head and pressed his lips to Scully's forehead. He had taken the first step when he'd followed her into the hallway, the next steps would be easier. He had wanted to wait until she was stronger. Then he decided to wait until they were back into a routine at work. Then he decided to wait until the timing was right. He wasn't going to wait any longer. He needed to know if he had imagined the love in her eyes when she looked at him that moment in the hallway. He needed to know if he had imagined that she had leaned forward to meet his lips. He needed to know if he would ever be able to hold her like this if she were awake.

He knew that he loved her but he needed to know if she felt the same towards him. When she woke up, they were going to talk -- really talk. Eddie Van Blundht talk. He didn't have a fire in the fireplace. He didn't have a bottle of wine. The only mood music in the background was thunder and rain, but he was there and she was there; in the past that was all they had needed.

He nuzzled his face into her hair and rested his cheek against her forehead. Mulder closed his eyes and for an instant let himself revel in the moment.

* * *

**I know that you want to know who the dude was. But you'll just have to wait, my pretties. Or run on over to the PostMilleniumSmut (whoa...never noticed those initials...) page and look for it. Currently my email has hit a glitch so I cannot send mail right about now. Sorry for the inconvenience.**

**Press the little blue button. You know you want to...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is the third installment. Don't know precisely how many more there will be--I haven't finished seperating the bits into chapters. I must apologize to those of you who are pestering me for the origional: my internet is down. Give me some time to get it working again and I'll send it to all of you that want it but for now I am stuck with the school computer and it doesn't let me go to yahoo. All I have is a floppy disc and fanfiction. So bear with me. But you can google Post-Mellenium Smut along with the words X-Files and Scully and Mulder and you _might_ be able to find it. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help but all I have to do is go to favorites and _voila_, it's there. **

**Disclaimer: Cloans of cloans on a loan. I don't own the characters, I don't own the concept or the text of this story.  
Chapter Rating: Still a T. Hmm...Give me about two more at the most for me to switch over to M for you.

* * *

Mulder was pulled out of his temporary bliss when a board above his head creaked loudly from the weight of someone stepping on it. His instincts went on immediate alert.**

"Scully," he whispered softly, so not to startle her.

The wood continued to protest as someone walked across the floor above. They weren't alone in the house.

"Scully, wake up," he spoke, still softly, but with more force.

"What?" She asked, having a hard time shaking the peaceful slumber that she was in.

"There's someone upstairs."

"What!" Wide-awake now, Scully jumped from his lap, paying little attention to the fact that she had been in his lap.

"Listen." Mulder stood by her side and both agents were silent. He

knew the moment that she heard the movement. Her eyes grew big and immediately she reached behind her, and drawing her gun.

Mulder grabbed the flashlight from the sofa and motioned for her to follow him into the hallway. Quickly they moved to the bottom of the steps.

Scully stood quietly behind Mulder, waiting, listening. Her patience failing her, she stepped past Mulder and began to ascend the stairs, her gun gripped tightly in her hands. The rotting wood creaked loudly in protest beneath her small feet. She heard Mulder's footsteps behind her and her breath caught in her throat when he reached a hand out, placing it on her shoulder.

"Scully," he whispered, turning her to face him. With her standing two steps above him, they were eye to eye.

"Mulder, there's someone up there," she insisted urgently. Her voice matching his low whisper.

"I know. Scully, someone may have come in a back door trying to get out of the rain." The irony of the current role reversal was not lost on him.

"Mulder. Something is not right in this house. I'm going to find out what it is. Are you coming with me?"

She searched his eyes for a moment. The doubt she saw there was soon replaced by trust.

Mulder drew his gun and motioned for Scully to keep going.

"I'm right behind you."

Scully gave him a quick nod and turning she continued up the stairs.

"Be careful. I don't know how safe these stairs are," he warned from behind.

She reached out, gripping the railing in case the rotting wood beneath her feet were to give way. A particularly loud burst of thunder shook the house and she stopped for a moment, willing her heart rate to slow down. Mentally scolding herself for showing any sign of weakness, Scully straightened her shoulders and quickened her climb.

Reaching the top, she waited briefly for Mulder. When she felt him behind her Scully turned the small corner at the top of the stairs and faced the long empty hallway. Her eyes followed the beam of the flashlight as Mulder surveyed the area, committing a mental map of the hallway to memory -- two doors on the left, three doors on the right and a window at the end of the corridor.

Scully turned to Mulder who motioned toward the door closest to them on the right. She nodded and took her place to the left of the door frame. Mulder moved to the right. Capturing Scully's gaze and focusing on the task, Mulder reached out and took the doorknob in his hand. Still holding her eyes he nodded his head silently -- once, twice -- on the third gesture he turned the door knob and pushed the door open with his foot. Scully quickly stepped, gun drawn, into the open door frame as Mulder flooded the small closet with light. It was empty.

Scully moved first, stepping to the first door on the left. Cautiously the agents repeated the maneuver. The room on the left was larger, but still empty.

Her frustration growing, Scully began to move down the hallway to the second door on the right side. An ear-splitting cracking drew her attention to the window at the end of the hall. Unsure of the cause of the noise, Scully aimed her weapon at the window and took a step towards it, drawn to the eerie, unfamiliar sound. A large branch ripped away from the tree directly outside the window and crashed through the boarded up glass. The vicious wind took full advantage of the new path and whipped its way through the hall carrying rain and broken glass.

Scully felt the water, wind and glass hurl past her face as she tried to cover her eyes with her arm. Momentarily unable to see she reached out, relieved when she felt Mulder's strong grip grasp her hand and pull her into the open room on the left. He quickly closed and secured the door and directed the beam of the flashlight onto Scully.

Her eyes still irritated, Scully tucked away her gun and used her fingers to examine and rub the stinging area.

"Scully, you're hurt." Mulder holstered his weapon and put the flashlight on the floor so that the beam of light hit the ceiling, dimly lighting the room and casting their shadows onto the far wall.

"I think I might have gotten something in my eyes." She blinked a couple of times and her vision cleared, the previous irritation gone. "Must have been water." Scully looked directly into his gaze to prove to him that she was indeed fine. Instead of relief she saw concern in his eyes as he walked toward her pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket.

"You're bleeding." Her hands moved to search her face but Mulder was quicker. He gently cupped her chin and tilted her head upward. "I think it's just a scratch," he said soothing her as he carefully blotted the small tear in her skin with the cloth. "You must have been hit by a piece of glass from the window."

Mulder kept his hand on her cheek, applying soft pressure to the cut. His hands on her face were so warm, so familiar. Her heart beat a little harder against her chest when she remembered the last time they had stood like this. Their bodies so close. The moment so tender yet so charged with possibility. Scully looked into Mulder's eyes and knew that he remembered too.

Not here.

Not now.

Her eyes broke away from his, wanting to look anywhere else. Needing to look anywhere else. They landed on the thin trickle of blood running down his hand.

"Same piece of glass that hit you?" She pulled his hand away from her face and brought his attention to his own injury. She stepped away from him and pulled him closer to the flashlight so that she could get a better look at the cut.

"Will I live?" He smirked.

Choosing to ignore his remark she took the handkerchief away from him and cleaned up his hand.

"Do you think that's what we heard? The tree pressing against the

boards on the window?"

"Probably, but it wouldn't hurt to search the rest of the house."

She nodded, a little of the intensity she felt earlier was disappearing. Bending to pick up the flashlight a flicker of light beneath another door in the room caught her attention.

Scully pulled her gun. Still bent over, she tapped on Mulder's leg to get his attention and pointed toward the door. She turned off the flashlight and the room became instantly black except for the faint glow of a lamp or candle that filtered through under the door.

After giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, Scully moved to the left of the door frame. She heard Mulder move to the right.

"Hand me the flashlight," he whispered.

She held the flashlight out to him and was sure he had a hold of it before letting go. She gripped her gun in both hands and took a deep breath.

"Ready?"

She heard his whisper in the darkness and answered her reply.

"Ready."

What happened next happened quickly, but for Scully, time – the universal invariant -- seemed to slow almost still.

She heard Mulder turn the knob on the door then she heard him kick the door open. She readied her weapon and stepped into the opened room. A quick scan of the room showed no danger but then in the shadowed corner against the back wall...she saw her.

"Mulder?"

"I got you."

Scully lowered her gun and walked past the small lantern sitting on the floor. She heard Mulder check the rest of the room for anyone else, but Scully's eyes never left her.

Tied to a rusty metal bed frame, lying on an old bare mattress in the back corner of the long room was a woman. She was gagged and at the sight of Mulder and Scully she began to make frantic noises trying to get their attention.

"You're safe. We're not going to hurt you." Scully checked behind her to make sure that Mulder still had his gun drawn. When she was certain that he did, she put hers away to free up both of her hands. Bending next to the woman, Scully first untied the gag and removed it from the woman's mouth.

"Thank God. We have to get out of here. He's crazy." The woman sputtered urgently, her voice soft and a bit raspy from the gag.

"You're safe. We're from the FBI. Who put you here? Who's crazy?"

Mulder questioned as Scully moved to the bottom of the rusted frame to untie the woman's feet.

"We are not safe! No one is safe in this house. We have to leave.

Hurry!" She begged Scully as she fought with the knotted rope.

"What's your name? How did you get here?"

"My name is Melinda. I was driving and I got lost. I got a flat tire. Please hurry, we have to get out of here."

Scully studied Melinda as the knots of the rope began to give way. She was tall, her bare feet almost reaching the end of the bed frame. Scully assessed her to be only a few inches shorter than Mulder. Scully couldn't guess accurately her age, but estimated her to be in her middle to late thirties. Her skin was very pale, appearing almost white in the flickering light of the lantern. She was very thin and was wearing a long, ragged, white gown that was modest in design. It appeared old, yet clean except for around the hem, which was soiled from where it must have dragged across the floor when she walked.

Scully pulled the rope away from Melinda's feet. She took note of the chafed skin around her ankles that had come from the rough twine rope. Moving to the head of the bed she began to work on the rope that bound Melinda's hands above her head. She had long thick dark blonde hair that curled over the mattress and probably fell halfway down her back when she stood. Anyone would have judged the woman classically beautiful, but it wasn't Melinda's beauty that Scully couldn't look away from -- it was the terror and intensity of her deep green eyes. The same terror and urgency that had been steadily forming a twisted knot in the pit of Scully's stomach from the moment she had laid eyes on this house was mirrored in Melinda's eyes. Eyes that both captivated and haunted.

"How long have you been here?" Mulder continued his questioning, still scanning the room with his eyes.

"I don't know." Melinda answered weakly. "Four or five days. I'm not sure. Sometimes he keeps me in the basement in the dark. I don't know how long I've been here. We have to get out!"

Scully untied her hands and Melinda instantly began rubbing the raw skin on her wrists.

"Can you stand up?" Scully asked softly.

Melinda nodded and slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

"Melinda?" Mulder moved closer to the bed. "Who tied you up?"

"I don't know who he is. He keeps telling me that he has plans for me and that I can't leave. He says that I'll never leave." Melinda's voice shook with fear. "Please, get me out of here before he comes back."

"We will. You're safe with us. Melinda?" Scully stepped between

Melinda and Mulder and asked her softly. "Did he hurt you?"

"No." Melinda shook her head. "He's just really scared me."

"We'll get you out of here, but right now it's not safe to go out in the storm."

"You don't understand. It's not safe to stay here."

"Is he armed?" Mulder questioned.

"No, I don't think so. I came in here when there was no answer at the door to see if I could find a phone. He hit me on the back of the head with something heavy."

"Let me check the back of your head." Scully reached out but Melinda surged to her feet. She stood, a bit unsteadily at first.

"It's fine. We're wasting time. We have to leave!"

"You're safe." Scully tried to reassure her again. "You said he's not armed. We are."

"You don't know him. We are _not_ safe."

"Does he stay here or does he come and go? Is he in the house right now?"

"I don't know," she cried becoming more visibly upset.

"Mulder," Scully stepped closer to him and spoke quietly. "Maybe we should try to get back to the car."

"Even if we can get back to the car without getting struck by lightning, we can't go anywhere."

"But it would get us out of this house."

He could tell by the urgency in her voice that her instincts were screaming out to her. Her instincts had been dead on from the beginning, ignoring them now wouldn't be a wise idea.

"Ok, Scully. Let's get her out of here."

- - -

A cold wind blew through the room and the lantern at the center of the floor flickered and then went out. For a moment the room was dark. Scully heard Melinda's sharp intake of breath before Mulder turned the flashlight on and offered the room some light. He picked up the lantern from the floor. Setting it on the mantle of the fireplace, he pulled the matches from his pocket and re-lit the wick.

Scully turned back to face Melinda, who cowered anxiously in the corner of the room.

"Melinda, Mulder and I are going to get you out of here." Scully

coaxed, offering the frightened woman her hand. Melinda timidly accepted and Scully drew her back out into the center of the room. "Our car isn't that far away. It has two flat tires but it's safe and it's dry. We'll have to wait there until the storm blows over and then we can figure out where we are."

"I don't care where we go. Just please get me out of here." Melinda begged.

"Do you know where he put your clothes?"

Melinda shook her head sadly and looked down at the tattered gown and her bare feet.

"He burned my clothes, my shoes, my purse and all my identification." Melinda lifted her eyes and looked directly at Mulder. "I can go like this."

Scully watched Melinda's jaw sit in determination.

"Let's go Mulder."

"We'll grab my coat downstairs. That should offer you a little protection from the wind." Mulder walked to the door and then turned to face Melinda and Scully. "We're going to walk down the stairs. You two will go directly out the door and head toward the car. I'll grab my jacket and catch up with you. Don't wait for me. Try to stay in the grass along side the road. It's going to be muddy, but it will be better on Melinda's feet."

Scully and Melinda nodded in understanding. Cautiously, Mulder opened the door. The wind and the rain continued to race down the hall. Lightning and thunder angrily took turns punishing the earth. The storm hadn't diminished since Mulder and Scully had entered the house -- it had intensified. Mulder turned to Melinda and taking her arm he gently pulled her to stand in front of him.

"Scully," he shouted above the wind, "move up front."

Scully questioned him with her expression only for a moment before realizing that he meant to shield them from the wind. She took the flashlight from him and pulling her gun, she started forward. Before she had even taken two steps an unearthly wail began downstairs and grew louder and louder, piercing the air.

"Back!" Mulder yelled above the wind and the wail.

Scully stood for a moment trying to identify the cry from below, but as quickly as it began, it was over. She turned and helped Mulder guide a terrified Melinda back into the room they had just left. Scully remained in the door frame, her hair whipped forward by the wind and stuck to her face because of the rain. Her gun and the flashlight remained trained toward the end of the hall.

"We're too late." Melinda sobbed. "We're too late. He's here."

Mulder stepped next to Scully, holding out his hand for the flashlight.

"I'm going down. Stay here and take care of Melinda."

Scully opened her mouth to argue that he shouldn't go alone but then she saw the look of terror on Melinda's face. She nodded and handed him the light, her fingers purposely brushing over his in the transfer. Her fingers gently told him to be careful. His thumb brushed hers in a silent 'I will'.

"Melinda?" Mulder broke his gaze away from Scully for a moment. "Is there another way out?"

"The back stairs." Melinda answered.

Mulder turned his full attention back to Scully.

"If I'm not back in ten minutes, you know what to do. Get Melinda out."

Scully nodded as she mentally vowed that she would get Melinda out -- and then she would come back for him.

She watched Mulder walk down the hallway. He turned and glanced at her briefly before disappearing around the corner.

Closing her eyes, Scully's hand drifted up to the cross hanging around her neck. Quickly, she offered up the same prayer she always said when she was afraid that he wouldn't return to her. Dana Scully then closed the door and did the one thing she hated the most -- she waited.

- - -

Mulder slowly make his way down the old staircase. The roof above had begun to leak. The water puddled in the center of the wooden stairs, making them even more treacherous to maneuver. The constant dripping sound echoed off the old walls. The front door stood open. Wet, dead leaves covered the floor inside the door. Mulder scanned the floor for wet foot prints and found none.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Mulder stepped out onto the porch and scanned the area. Tree branches lashed out at the house creating dark moving shadows over the yard. Not seeing anyone, he stepped back into the house and closed the door. Moving into the room where he and Scully had first been, Mulder grabbed his jacket off of the couch. The candles he had lit earlier were dark, but he couldn't be sure that the wind hadn't put them out. Again he checked the floor for foot prints tracked in from outside. The only prints he saw were his own.

Gun first, Mulder walked back out into the long hall and used the flashlight to search the area. Something caught his attention on the floor. Sure that they hadn't been there just a moment ago, Mulder saw prints begin where the carpet of leaves ended, halfway down the corridor. The prints disappeared behind a closed door on the right.

Approaching the door, a rush of adrenaline traveled through his bloodstream as he turned the knob and opened the door. Before he could scan the empty room or react to the whisper of noise behind him, he felt his world explode when a heavy blunt object connected with the back of his head. The pain was unbearable and as the floor seemed to rush up to meet him and before everything faded to black, his mind screamed her name. Scully.

- - -

Scully sat on the mattress, anxious, while Melinda paced the room.

Except for the storm outside, the house was quiet. Scully's eyes took turns between staring at the door and staring at her watch. Her mind took turns deciding between doing what she knew she should and doing what she knew she wanted. Her heart -- was silent -- half of her heart had left with Mulder.

Unable to ignore her watch any longer, Scully surged to her feet and walked to the fireplace. Picking up the lantern from the mantle she walked

to the door, checking behind her to see that Melinda was following.

"Let's go. Mulder said ten minutes, we've already waited longer than that."

"You're just going to leave him here?"

"No." Scully answered vehemently. "I'm going to do what he told me to do and I'm going to get you out of this house. Then I'm coming back."

Melinda reached out an arm and rested her hand on Scully's shoulder.

"Thank you Agent Scully." Melinda whispered.

"You said there were back stairs."

"Last door on the right."

"Stay behind me." Scully ordered.

Scully lifted the lantern up to her face and slid the protective guard over the flame to ensure that it would stay lit. Opening the door, Scully and Melinda eased out into the hallway. The wind was ferocious and Scully fought to keep her eyes open as she faced the open window and advanced toward the door. The rain bit like broken glass as it hit her again and again in the face.

Needing a break from the onslaught to clear her vision, Scully turned to face Melinda and was taken aback by what she saw.

The statuesque woman stood in the center of the darkened hall. Her hair twisted and flew behind her as the wind swept it away from her face. The rain caused her gown to mold against her body and the excess of white material billowed in the wind. Her skin, which had appeared pale before, now seemed translucent in the flickering flame of the lantern and the lightning. She appeared ghostly as she walked toward Scully. Her eyes still as haunted as they were when Scully first saw her bound and gagged to the bed.

Blinking several times to clear the rain from her eyes, the image of Melinda cleared and what Scully saw before her was a frightened woman who needed her help. A frightened woman she needed to help before she began looking for Mulder.

Steeling herself against the storm, Scully turned and continued toward the last door on the right. The voice in her head repeating in urgency; get Melinda out, find Mulder. Get Melinda out, find Mulder. Find Mulder...

Finally reaching her goal, Scully was dismayed to find that unlike the rest of the doors in the hall, this door opened out into the hall. Right in front of the open window. Keeping a tight grip on her gun, but setting the lantern on the floor, Scully began her struggle to open the door against the brutal force of the wind. Able to get the door open a crack, Scully shoved her foot in the small opening created. Tucking her gun away in order to use both of her hands, little by little she was able to wedge her body into the small space between the door and its frame. Bending at the knee, into a squat, with one leg on either side of the door she picked up the lantern and moved it to the other side of the door before standing up.

"Melinda!" Scully shouted as Melinda attempted to help her with the door. "Get as close to my side as you can. When I move my foot away from the door, you slide in. Just like I am now." She was becoming breathless at the effort it took to keep the door from crushing her. "I'll help you from the inside as soon as I can get turned around and push. Do you understand?"

A faint trace of something unrecognizable crossed Melinda's eyes.

Before Scully could identify the emotion causing the change, the look was gone. Melinda nodded and stepped so that she was directly next to Scully.

"Ready?"

"Ready." Melinda confirmed.

Scully edged out of the doorframe until all that kept the door from completely closing was her leg. She looked to Melinda, who nodded. Scully watched as Melinda slid her foot between the door and the door frame and with a nod to Melinda, Scully quickly pulled her leg from the opening.

Before Scully could turn around to brace her weight against the door to help Melinda through -- the door slammed shut.

"Dammit!" Scully snarled as she pounded her fists against the wooden door. "Melinda!" She screamed. "You pull the door and I'll push." She waited for a response and heard none. "Melinda!" She yelled again.

Ready to brace her shoulder against the door to push it open against the wind, Scully put her hand on the door knob and...it was locked.

Scully tried again and again to turn the knob, but to no avail. The door was locked.

"Melinda!" She tried one more time before pounding on the door.

She turned and quickly drew her gun and picked up the lantern. The dim light only reached about two feet in front of her and Scully could see no end to the steps that descended at her feet. Turning back to the closed door, she tried one last time at twisting the knob. Still locked.

Her mind raced with possibilities, fears and accusations. The voice in her head now only repeated two words over and over again. Find Mulder.

The air in the stairwell was stale and musty. Scully began walking down the steps, slowly, using the lantern to cast the dim light as far out as it was able. Her gun clutched tightly in her hand. She hadn't gotten very far when a new smell started to attack her senses. A smell that she wasn't able to identify -- as she got further down the stairs the odor grew stronger and stronger. Scully was forced to place her arm over her nose and mouth in order to keep breathing. Four steps lay in front of her before she saw the cement floor, and she was no longer able to deny the stench that now permeated the air she breathed, and clung to her like a cloak. It was the smell of death.

Unable to stand it any longer, she fought the urge to gag, unsuccessfully. Gagging only brought more and more of the foul air into her lungs. She clamped her sleeved arm over her nose and mouth and tried to control and slow her breathing. Closing her eyes and taking in only the smell of the cloth of her coat, she was able to push down the bile rising in the back of her throat.

Opening her eyes, but keeping her arm tightly over her face, Scully stepped down the last four stairs and held the lantern out in front of her. She was in a small room, with out any obvious outlets, no doors, no windows. Lowering the lantern, Scully again felt the bile climb up her throat. Bodies, in varying stages of decay, covered the floor.

Stepping forward, she tried to count the individual bodies that spread out before her. One, two, three, four...

Suddenly a hand reached around her from behind and grabbed the gun away from the arm she was using to protect herself from the stench. Scully reacted quickly and brought that same arm back forcefully until she felt her elbow connect with a solid target. The man behind her lurched forward in pain, but still clamped a rag over her face. Scully's hands rushed to her face and tried to pull and tear at the hand holding the material over her nose and mouth. She recognized the bitter smell and knew that she didn't have long. Distracting him by pulling at the arm covering her mouth, Scully raised her knee and stomped on the inside of his foot with as much strength as she was able to gather.

"Bitch." The man holding her hissed as he lifted his leg off the floor in pain. Scully used the opportunity to try and throw him off balance and she jerked her body to the left. The man only tightened his grip around her mouth and they both fell backwards. Her captor fell onto the stairs and painfully twisted one of her arms around behind her back in punishment. As the pain traveled up her arm and exploded in her brain, the chemically treated cloth was making the room start to spin and as darkness began to swallow her up, her mind screamed his name. Mulder.

* * *

**Is that enough of a cliff-hanger? Hee-hee. Push the button and I'll put the next bit up. But until then...MWAHAHA! I'm holding it for ranson.**

**Deamon**


	4. Chapter 4

**So I finally got to posting this. It's hard seperating this story into chapters. It kind of blurs together. Anyway, this is THE LAST T rated chapter. I promise. And then we get to the hard-core stuff and then the sex. So there. And again I must remind you that my email is DOWN. Please don't be angry with me if I cannot send you the hyperlink. Believe me: I am suffering as much as you are. I can't email my cousin. And she's getting angry with me. **

**Disclaimer: Uh, do I really have to say it again? I don't own the X-Files or this story.  
Spoilers: The movie. And the past chapters have a little from some of the TV shows. No biggie.  
Rating: T. Until next chapter.  
Read. Enjoy. I may be posting another re-post from another website. God, I find these things and they make me cry and... sheesh. In the meantime I will continue working on my extended story for the X-Files. For those of you that have been asking me, I will _not_ post it until I am _finito._ Doing otherwise is a jinx to my X-File stories. It has been proven.

* * *

A deep agonizing moan woke Mulder from the dark blackness of sleep. Immediately the painful throbbing that filled his head brought into focus that the moan had come from this own throat. Still deep in the haze of unconsciousness, Mulder tried to move his hand to the back of the head. The ache at the base of his skull took an immediate backseat to the realization that his hands were bound above his head.**

Slowly opening his eyes, the room blurred and began to spin as his

stomach lurched toward his throat. Another low moan broke the eerie silence as Mulder tightly squeezed his eyes closed and took a long, deep breath. Minutes passed as he concentrated only on taking the slow, deep even breaths that would abate the nauseating spin the room seemed intent on taking.

When his stomach began to calm, Mulder tried to remember what had happened: walking down the stairs, footprints in the hallway, closed door, pain, Scully. Where was Scully? Physically trying to shake the fog from his thoughts, Mulder moved his head from side to side. Using the sharpness of the pain that ensued to bring him to full alertness, he opened his eyes.

It took his eyes a few minutes to adjust, but thankfully the room was lit only lantern and soft flame. The object of his search came into view instantly. Scully lay motionless on a steel exam table directly in front of him. Panic surged into his mind until he was able to detect the rise and fall of her chest.

"Scully?"

No response.

"Scully?"

Still no response.

It was time to get them both the hell out of there. He seemed to be lying on a make-shift hospital bed. There was a mattress under him and bars framed the bed. His hands, he viewed looking carefully above his head, were handcuffed together. The handcuffs were twined through the bars of the bed. Giving his arms one hard downward pull assured him that the steel was sturdy -- and dammit -- they were his own handcuffs. Velcro straps secured his ankles to the bed and a leather belt of sorts tightly held him to the bed at the waist. The bed was tipped at an angle so that Mulder was positioned almost up-right facing the center of the dark room. Facing Scully.

Scully was bound in the same manner, except her arms were at her sides secured by velcro at the wrists. The steel table was also at a vertical angle. Facing Mulder.

Medical equipment surrounded the table where Scully was held. Looking to his left, Mulder saw a few of the same machines, although not as many. He recognized the EKG machine and the heart monitor from his many trips to the hospital, the other equipment he would have to wait for Scully to identify.

He noticed that the machines were lit up, indicating that they were being supplied with electricity, yet the room was lit by lanterns. He guessed they were being held in the basement of the house. The floor was a gray cement, the ceiling was the same rotting wood that made up the rest of the house. Heavy, dark drapes concealed the area behind Scully and the two walls on the left and the right. There was a television set on his right and several Bunsen burners were located on small tables throughout the room. The burners heated glass beakers filled with vibrantly colored boiling liquid. There were no windows that he could see, and no doors.

"Mulder?" Her voice was soft, weak.

Mulder's gaze snapped back to see Scully groggily moving her head from side to side, as though trying to rid herself of the annoying blackness that was pervasively trying to recapture her.

"Come on Scully. Open your eyes." Mulder coaxed.

Her eye lids were so heavy. Her lips were dry and the effort it was going to take to wake up seemed too much to grasp at the moment.

"Come on, Scully."

Scully focused on Mulder's voice, took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred and it took a few moments to focus. Her first sight was Mulder, watching her expectantly.

"It's about time you woke up," he joked, relieved to see her conscious.

"Sorry," she replied weakly.

Scully closed her eyes again and stretched her neck from side to side. Trying to move and stretch the rest of her body, she opened her eyes and took formal notice of the restraints.

"Where the hell are we Mulder?" Scully sighed, taking in not only her own restraints but Mulder's also.

"I think it must be the basement. There's power coming from somewhere, but no lights. I don't think the room is sound proof, but you can hardly hear the storm. I think the drapes on the walls are to muffle the sound."

Mulder noticed Scully trying to concentrate on what he was saying but her eyes kept drifting closed.

"Scully, did you get hit on the back of the head?"

"No," she answered still groggy from the effects of the drug. "He used chloroform or something similar."

"He?"

"I hit him before I blacked out. He groaned like a _he_."

"Way to go Scully, make him angry." Mulder teased.

"Did you get hit on the back of the head?"

"He came up from behind me," he explained, his pride still a bit bruised.

"How's your vision? Headache?" Scully fought the lack of control she was feeling by slipping into a familiar role...taking care of Mulder.

"My vision was fine, Scully, the moment I woke up and saw you there," he admitted quietly. "What happened after I left you?" He asked quickly shifting the conversation.

"I found the others. The people reported missing. They're dead,

Mulder." Scully reported softly after a moment.

"How?"

"The backstairs Melinda referred to led to a room. It was an open

grave. There were bodies all over the floor. I didn't get time to determine cause of death."

"Melinda?"

"We were separated," Scully answered briskly. "Did you come up with a way to get us out of here while I was unconscious?"

"Well, I had a great plan A, but then I remembered that I brought the real handcuffs and not the fake plastic ones." He clanged the cuffs loudly against the bed frame for effect.

"I don't suppose you came up with a plan B?"

"I did, of course it depends on if you woke up with telekinetic

powers..."

She shook her head slowly, looking around the room.

"What's behind me?"

"A heavy dark drape, a table with a Bunsen burner heating a purple liquid and next to the burner..." she strained her neck trying to get a better look. "I think it's our guns."

"What's all the medical equipment? I recognize the EKG machine and the heart monitor."

She scanned the machines next to him and those to her immediate left.

"The rest look like simple monitoring devices: Blood pressure; Pulse rate; Galvanized Skin Response monitor. My chemistry's rusty -- I don't know what all the liquid on the burners are."

"What about the machine on the cart next to you?"

Scully twisted her head and tried to get a glance at the cart Mulder was referring to. It was too far back for her to see. She tried to shift her body to slide closer to the edge of the table. Although she couldn't move her body, she did notice that the restraint on her right side was loose.

"Mulder, I think I can get my right hand free," she whispered quietly, beginning to struggle to pull her hand away from the restraint. Mulder watched her silently.

When her hand was almost free from the Velcro straps, the curtain behind her parted and a figure stepped through the folds of material. Scully stopped her struggle and looked up to catch Mulder's eye.

The figure was hidden behind the exam table and slowly Melinda walked around the table and into the center of the room.

"Melinda!" Mulder exclaimed relieved. "Untie Scully. We can all still get out of here alive. Scully's right hand is almost free...:"

"Mulder!" Scully shouted trying to stop him from revealing too much to the woman.

"Help get her off the table." Mulder finished not understanding

Scully's warning.

"Of course." Melinda answered.

Melinda stepped between the two tables, facing Scully. She met Scully's gaze. Scully found a cold stab of fear as Melinda's empty eyes locked onto hers. Melinda took Scully's hand into her own and pushed it firmly down onto the bed.

"Hold still." Melinda instructed as she pulled the velcro strap away from Scully's wrist. Then, still holding Scully's hand and never breaking eye contact, Melinda tightened the strap and re-fastened it over Scully's wrist.

"What the hell is going on?" Mulder again futilely struggled to free himself.

"Whatever's happening in this house -- she's a part of it." Scully answered, her eyes never leaving Melinda's, daring her to deny the accusation.

The curtain behind Scully parted a second time and a deep masculine voice filled the room.

"Very good, Agent Scully. Or do you prefer Dr. Scully?"

Mulder and Scully both strained to see the owner of the voice while

Melinda stepped back into the shadows of the darkened room.

"I'd say you were a master of your craft, one of the FBI's finest, but alas, you are the one strapped to an exam table. Tsk, Tsk," the voice mocked.

"Who are you?" Mulder demanded, still trying to get a glimpse of the elusive figure masked within the folds of the dark drapes. "What do you want?"

"Fox Mulder. Agent Fox Mulder. Answers only to Mulder, hates the name Fox. You were on the FBI's fast track, until you lost your ambition and, some say, your mind, in the stars."

"Is this how we're going to spend the evening? Listening to a coward behind a curtain prove to us that he took our badges and did a little hacking into our files over the Internet?" Mulder shouted in the direction he had last heard the voice.

A man stepped from the shadows and quickly encircled Scully's throat with his hand. Her body tensed but she refused to flinch in reaction.

"No Mulder. I have a much better way to spend our evening," the man hissed into Scully's ear.

"Get your hand off of me." Scully warned, her voice low and strong.

Not moving a muscle, and defying him by not looking him in the eye,

Scully waited. She felt the slight pressure of his fingers tighten briefly before leaving her neck.

"Whatever the lady likes...for now."

He walked away from her, focusing his attention now on Mulder.

"Good catch, the Internet." He pulled a badge from each pocket and set them on a nearby table. "Your file said that you were highly intelligent, it must be just your career you're wasting, not your intellect."

Scully studied the man as he walked away from her. Tall, hair that had once been dark was now prematurely graying. Slender...too slender. The white lab coat he wore hung off his skeletal frame. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes were deep caverns of darkness. She could still feel his cold bony fingers around her neck -- squeezing her throat. A dread like none other she had ever experienced chilled her blood.

"The Internet? The machines? No lights? What's with all the doom and gloom?" Mulder questioned.

"Atmosphere," he replied dramatically. "Don't tell me you don't appreciate the atmosphere I've created for you. I'm hosting this little gathering, just trying to make it more memorable for you. Not that I'm giving you time to remember it. That is a shame. I've gone to a lot of work here."

"Don't you think it's about time you told us who you are and what you want?" Scully asked, tiring of the melodrama.

"Oh, forgive me," he apologized turning to face her. "Let me introduce myself," he bowed and then straightened. "My name is Ethan Rupert." He stepped closer to Scully, emphasizing each word. "Doctor Ethan Rupert."

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Mulder asked snidely.

Scully's mind raced as Mulder spoke, she searched her memory for the familiar name. She knew that she had heard it somewhere, maybe read it. If she could just remember...

"Oh, my God." She spoke softly -- a whisper -- as she remembered.

"Flattery, my dear Dana will get you nowhere," he returned the whisper, running his finger down her cheek.

Scully twisted her face away from his touch.

"You didn't have to hack into our files," she accused. "Although I'm sure your old passwords no longer work."

"What's going on Scully?"

"Dr. Ethan Rupert," she repeated. "Mulder, do you remember the scientist that disappeared almost a year ago -- the big cover-up? Everyone knew he was working for the government doing research but after he disappeared no one could explain what he was researching."

"You cracked." Mulder grinned, obviously remembering the tale.

Rupert spun toward him, his eyes blazing with fury.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Rupert fumed, becoming agitated by Mulder's words.

"Think again, Dr. Frankenstein. You were working on some secret project for that branch of the government that doesn't exist, at least on paper, and you snapped. You killed two people in the lab. The military pulled your funding -- but you didn't stop. There were four more deaths before you went underground in DC. Then the higher-ups got a lead on you and you disappeared."

"Too bad for you that you won't live through the night. It would be quite the feather in your cap if you were to bring me in."

"I find feathers gaudy." Mulder stated smoothly.

"From this moment -- until your last -- it doesn't matter what you find." Rupert snarled.

"Is that what this is about -- why those people died -- research?" Scully questioned, drawing Rupert away from Mulder. "You are crazy."

"Stop saying that!" Rupert ordered through clenched teeth.

Scully watched his eyes fill with rage and she steeled herself against the blow she knew was coming as he raised his fist to strike. She heard the clanging of Mulder's handcuffs as he tried to break his way free of the binds. Just before his fist would have connected with her jaw, Scully saw Melinda step out from the shadows.

"Ethan," she said sharply.

His fist stopped only inches from her face. His fingers uncurled and ran down her cheekbone -- causing her stomach to wretch in disgust.

"Everything is under control." Ethan said easily turning to Melinda and taking her hand for a moment before disappearing into the shadows of the room himself.

"You have no idea of how hard this has been for him." Melinda spat in defense. "He gave his entire life to those people. He did everything -- everything -- he was ordered to do. He carried out orders that no one else would have been capable of doing. They gave him an assignment and when he carried it out...they branded him a criminal."

"What are you, his lab assistant?" Mulder asked, sarcasm lacing in his words. "Your real name wouldn't happen to be Igor, would it?"

"No, Agent Mulder, I'm his wife."

Ethan continued to circle in the shadows, muttering softly to himself and waving his arms.

"What is this about? What is he researching?" Scully asked keeping an eye on Rupert.

"It didn't start out like this. The military put him through med-school. Someone decided he had special talents early on and he was assigned to a covert research project studying methods of extracting information."

"Methods of torture." Mulder realized.

"Not at first." Melinda said quickly. "At first he was studying fight and flight responses and how to synthetically mimic the biological stages of the flight response. Ethan felt that if he heightened anxiety, a person would be more apt to divulge information. He ran tests and collected the data." Melinda explained beginning to pace back and forth between Mulder and Scully. "The procedure was very promising, but they wanted it faster. Ethan experimented with different chemical combinations and he succeeded. He again took his data to the men in charge, it wasn't good enough. The drugs only worked in 60 of the cases and could cause immediate death in cases where people were allergic. They said they didn't have time to wait

for a drug to take effect. It needed to be faster. It needed to be better." Her voice grew softer and she cast a quick glance over to Ethan. "Something happened to Ethan, he became driven to please these people. He took each rejected idea personally. He saw each attempt as a failure. He spent all his days and nights locked in the research lab studying human nature. He took note of each biological and psychological weakness known to man. He lost himself in that lab -- he killed himself for those people. And for what? One day he came out of the lab and said that he had found what they were looking for. He went to them, told them what he found. He reported that the procedure was 95 effective. They told him to prove it."

"The first two deaths in the lab?" Scully asked and Melinda nodded.

"They didn't like it, said that the new procedure left too much to chance. They said the research needed to stop. They weren't interested in it anymore -- they had moved on. But Ethan, Ethan couldn't move on, he couldn't understand how anyone could deny how perfect his method was. He tried to prove it to them twice more. The next thing we knew there were police questioning our friends about where we were. The same people who had put this entire plan into motion were now trying to arrest Ethan because he was doing exactly what they told him to do."

"He kills people." Scully stated bitterly.

"He kills people because that's what the government pays him to do. They convinced him. They convinced him that if he wasn't willing to work with them, that he was a traitor to his country. He didn't want to continue with the research after they had rejected the drug treatment. He had tried to get out, but then they threatened his life. When that didn't work, they threatened my life. That's when he came up with his current method."

"Melinda, the government doesn't pay him any more. They are not going to suddenly take him back after all he's done."

"You think I'd go back there?" Ethan stepped back into the conversation and back into the center of the room. "I'm not giving my results to a government that doesn't appreciate my methods. People with no loyalty, no creativity. People I gave up my life for and are now trying to hunt me down like a dog. I have one more trial to run and then my research data gets sold to the highest bidder."

"One more trial? That's us?"

"That's you. Prep her Melinda."

"Since you seem to be so proud of this so called _method_, would you care to let us in on what it is?" Mulder asked as he watched Melinda walk toward Scully.

Rupert was quiet for a moment as he too watched Melinda.

Melinda stepped toward Scully and began to unbutton the blouse Scully was wearing. Scully began to struggle beneath the woman's hands. Melinda pulled away and calmly checked the restraints to be certain they were tight.

"Don't struggle." Melinda urged. "You'll only hurt yourself."

Melinda continued to unbutton the blouse and then pulled the fabric away from Scully's body exposing her stomach and chest to the cold basement air. Melinda took a scissors from the stand next to the exam table and began cutting the material of the blouse's sleeve. First one and then the other, until she was able to pull the ruined garment away from her completely, leaving only her white cotton bra as covering. Moving to the end of the table, Melinda removed her shoes.

Scully was beginning to panic. She watched the woman strip her of her clothing and was relieved when Melinda stopped with her shoes. The exam table was now extremely cold against her back and she couldn't help but wonder what was in store for her as Melinda began to hook her up to the various machines that were next to the bed.

"My method, Agent Mulder, is very simple. If you want something from someone who doesn't want to give it to you, physically harming them will not get you what you want."

"What will get you what you want?" Mulder asked keeping a close eye on what Melinda was doing to Scully.

"Not to physically harm the person you want the information from -- but to physically harm someone that person cares about."

Scully looked up from where she was watching Melinda attach the different leads from the machines to her body.

"Psychological torture?" She questioned.

"My hypothesis is simply that psychological torture, as you put it so nicely, is more effective at breaking an individual than physical torture. I begin with you Dr. Scully -- I use electric shock, in progressive amounts, to get a heart rate, blood pressure and skin response reading to develop a baseline for your endurance level. Meanwhile, Agent Mulder's reactions to your physical discomfort are also recorded. Once you, Dana, inform me that you've had enough and you beg me to stop, then you switch places and the experiment begins again. My results so far indicate that the person forced to watch will experience much more distress than the person being given the electrical stimulation."

Scully couldn't think; couldn't react. Her attention fell back to Melinda, who had just finished attaching her to all the monitors. All the leads made sense now, including the two electrodes she had placed on her back, right below her shoulder blades. She watched Melinda walk to Mulder and begin to unbutton his shirt.

Mulder's mind was too fixated on the fact that he was going to have to watch this bastard hurt Scully to think clearly. Melinda was suddenly in front of him, unbuttoning his shirt. She pulled the material away from him and began attaching the correct monitors to his temples and chest.

Mulder's eyes grabbed onto Scully's and held them. A silent promise passed between them. He gave her the strength to face what was ahead and in turn she gave him the strength to think clearly.

"Your entire theory is based on psychological and emotional attachment. The basis for your method is two people who deeply care for one another," Mulder began, cautiously formulating his plan as he went. "The other eight couples that disappeared were couples -- man and wife -- they were married. They were in love."

"Agent Mulder and I aren't emotionally attached," continued Scully, sure she knew where Mulder's line of thinking was going. "We work as partners for the FBI. You read our files. We work together. We aren't in love."

"If you use us in this experiment, you're only going to skew your data. It won't be accurate. We only work together." Mulder insisted.

Ethan smiled and walked to the television set at the side wall. Pushing it forward, he positioned it next to the two agents, giving them both a perfect view of the screen.

"I thought that also. I was highly disappointed when I found your badges and your guns. I did read your file and I must admit I was about to let you go -- then I re-watched the scene that had me so excited about the two of you in the first place."

"What are you talking about?" Scully looked at Mulder, whose eyes seemed to be a mirror of her own.

Ethan turned on the television and pressed the play button on the VCR. Soon the white static on the screen was replaced by a clear picture of the room they had been in when they had first arrived at the house.

Scully was ready to dismiss the video as more delusions of a madman when she saw the camera zoom in on two figures on the couch. The figures were her and Mulder. She realized that there must have been a hidden video camera in the dark room.

She was sleeping in the position she remembered, her head pillowed in Mulder's lap. Then, as she watched the video, she saw herself begin to toss on the sofa. Then she turned over. Mulder was trying to keep her comfortable and from falling off the couch when suddenly she turned and would have fallen if it hadn't been for Mulder's strong arms.

She was sitting in his lap, sound asleep, snuggling against him while he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head and her forehead. She watched the strangers on the screen. She watched the woman sleep in his arms. She watched the man whisper softly to her and brush his lips against the woman's skin. She was mesmerized by what she saw and how it was making her feel. This couple wasn't them. It couldn't be. Yet it was. She glanced away from the screen for a moment, to Mulder.

So much time. So much wasted time. Wanting. Yearning. Wondering. Dreaming. To always be ripped apart from one another only to find each other again and still deny, deny each other the simple pleasure of being together. Together like she had just seen on the video tape.

They had been so close in that hallway. So close to realizing what it would be like to be together. Mulder had told her what was in his heart. He had broken through her last remaining wall of defense by telling her how he felt. For so long she had believed that it was only her that needed him. She existed in his world and was a hindrance to his search more than a partner. She was the one who needed him, needed his drive, his support, his passion. But in the hallway he had told her that he needed her. She knew the instant he made the decision to kiss her. His eyes darkened and she saw when the internal struggle gave way to instinct. She had wanted him to kiss her. She had wanted to kiss him. But then the world fell out from under her, out from under both of them.

She almost wished she'd never seen the tape. Never seen what might have been. Her, curled up in Mulder's lap. Him kissing her; comforting her; keeping her safe. If she died tonight, on this damn table, she would die knowing what it would look like if they were together. She would die knowing there was so much they could finally say to each other. She would die after being given a glimpse of what it could have been.

He could feel her eyes on him, could sense her confusion. He couldn't meet her eyes this time.

* * *

**So there. Don't you want to see if they get away before they turn on the electricity? I know you do. But it's being held for ransom. And if they don't... hehehehe. Now I shall frolic off to watch my new DVDs...first season of Bones. Yeah. REVIEW, PEOPLE. OR YOU WILL NEVER FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT (unless you are unlazy enough to look it up and find it. But we all know that us fanfikers are couch-potatos. We're lazy in the real world by nature. We need our stories to get by. I know few of you will google. And if you do...don't ruin the surprise.)**


	5. Chapter 5

**So shut up. I've hit not only a writer's block when it comes to my other story but a brick wall. So I haven't gotten on here to post anything for a while. So if you're waiting for Bright Sides - Sophie, sorry - then you're just going to have to wait because I can't seem to get it right. **

**Here it is. Chapter 5. And the rating is about to be bumped up to an M. This chapter it's for violence, next chapter we take a break, and then we get to the MSR. **

**READ AND REVIEW!**

**PS is anybody else following the progress of the next X-File movie? Gillean Anderson and David Duchovny keep posting stuff and mentioning it in their interviews. Sheesh.**

* * *

Scully focused back on the screen and didn't move, even after Ethan had turned off the video and the television. She felt both men watching her, studying her.

Melinda stepped in front of Scully, blocking the view of the two men. Scully looked up into the woman's eyes and what she saw there surprised her. She saw understanding.

"Oh my God!" Ethan shrieked excitedly. "You've never told each other." He bent over at the waist in laughter. "How tragic..." His laughter amused him for a moment and then he straightened, dead serious once again. "And how perfect."

"Rupert..." Mulder began.

"Say it," Ethan challenged. "Say it. Let the last thing she hears from you be that you don't love her. Say it!"

Mulder was silent, damning him with his eyes. Ethan turned to Scully.

"Can you say it? Can you let the last words he hears from you be that you don't care? Come on. Say it!" He shouted at Scully.

"Ethan, that's enough. We have to get started." Melinda interrupted before Scully could offer a reply.

Ethan walked to where Scully was bound on the table. Melinda stepped around the table to Scully's other side.

She struggled against the restraints again and Melinda pushed her shoulder back onto the table.

"There's really nothing you can do."

"What happens next?" Scully asked, nervously looking from Ethan to Melinda.

"Next, Dana, I start with a low level of electrical stimulation. I record your response and Mulder's response. I slowly increase the level of stimulation and continue to record your individual responses." Ethan explained as he readied the equipment and calibrated the machines.

"Until what?" Scully asked. "You slowly increase the level of electrical stimulation until what happens?"

"For you, I continue until you beg me to stop."

"And then what? What happens when I beg you to stop?"

"Then you and your partner switch places."

Ethan leaned over her to check the position of the monitors, his face directly next to hers. She could feel his breath on her neck.

"What happens when he begs you to stop?" She whispered, not looking at him.

Ethan moved so that his mouth was directly next to her ear.

"When he begs me to stop -- I keep going," he whispered so that only she could hear him.

Ethan lingered for a moment next to her ear before moving to Mulder and checking the equipment there.

"Melinda," she called quietly to the woman next to her. "What happens to the one who's left?"

"What?"

"How does he kill the one who's left?"

"It's quick, painless. He uses an injection. You won't feel a thing." Melinda promised as she left Scully and walked to Mulder.

She looked down at her body. She felt the machines attached to her skin. She heard the heart monitor signaling her heart beat. She was aware of the restraints holding her wrists, ankles, and waist to the metal table.

She looked to Mulder, saw the same restraints binding his ankles and his waist. She saw the machines attached to his chest. Her eyes traveled up to the hand-cuffs holding his wrists above his head.

Her eyes moved down his arms and met his hazel gaze. His eyes moved to her hand where the restraint had once been loose. His eyes then hopefully moved back up to hers. She tried to move her hand again, it was held tightly. She shook her head. The hope that had been in his eyes died.

- - -

Scully took a deep measured breath and looked up to see Ethan walking back toward her. Melinda remained standing next to Mulder.

"Here we go. Ready or not." Ethan prompted as he set the dials on the machine next to her that she assumed controlled the electrical current.

Scully set her jaw and turned her head so that she saw neither Ethan nor Mulder. She closed her eyes and concentrated only on her breathing.

She heard the snick of the switch on the machine being thrown before she was aware of the current coursing through her body. She clenched her eyes tightly closed and her lips formed a thin line as she squeezed them together. Scully took two deep breaths through her nose, and then the sensation was over.

She let out a rush of breath from her mouth and unclenched her fists.

"Scully?" Mulder shouted from in front of her.

She turned, opened her eyes to him and nodded her head to tell him that she was fine. The printers and machines on both sides of the room were loudly recording their bodies' physical responses to the exercise.

"Going up." Ethan whispered in her ear as he turned the dials on the machine.

Scully took a deep breath, but was only able to get half the amount of oxygen she needed when her body arched off the table in a painful response to the electrical current. She heard Mulder scream her name as she bit tightly down on her lower lip to keep from crying out in agony. The waist restraint embedded into her skin and it wasn't until Ethan cut the power that her body fell back against the table.

A tear from her eye fell across her check disappearing into her hair as she tasted the slight metallic flavor of blood from the inside of her mouth where she had bit down. Her breathing was becoming labored and she fought to fill her lungs with short gasps.

"Anytime Scully." Ethan taunted, his mouth against her ear. "You have the power to end this. Just beg me to stop."

"Bastard," Scully spat before being thrown into another electrical seizure. Her body felt as if it were being pulled apart from the inside. Her teeth tore into the already ripped flesh of her inner lip and her fingernails dug into the palm of her hand. But still she fought him.

The siege upon her body again temporarily ended and she gasped for breath.

"Ethan, come here." Melinda called from where she stood next to Mulder.

Scully could still hear Mulder calling her name, so she knew for the moment he was fine. She focused on her breathing and slowly she heard the heart monitor next to her return to a steady regular beat.

She had to stay calm. She had to be ready when Mulder came up with a plan to get them out of here. Mulder always came up with a plan. He always saved her. She always saved him. From the very beginning they had saved each other.

How many times had he rushed in at the very last moment and rescued her. He had saved her from a town full of cannibals, Donnie Pfaster, an alien spaceship, even cancer. She had rescued him from the iron grip of a virtual reality nightmare, a sweeper team in Puerto Rico, and many times she had rescued him from himself. He would save her this time. They were not going to die in the crazed hands of this man. She would fight to hang on and he would save her.

Mulder urgently called her name again and with effort she opened her eyes. One look at him and she knew.

His eyes were ablaze with desperation. His body was covered with a fine layer of sweat from his struggle. Blood trickled down his arms from where he beat his wrists against the metal cuffs in trying to escape.

They were going to die.

She closed her eyes to him and let her head fall to the side. She needed to rest. She needed to think. She was going to die on this table. All she had to do to stop it was scream -- but then she would have to watch Mulder die. She knew, of the two of them, she was the strong one. She knew what it would do to Mulder if he was forced to watch her die. She knew what it was doing to him having to watch her suffer. She knew that he would willingly trade places with her in an instant. His eyes were begging her to scream out. But in her heart she knew that she couldn't.

She couldn't be the strong one this time. She couldn't watch Mulder die. She couldn't watch his body wracked with the kind of pain she was going to experience. She would be strong and let Rupert defeat her, but only because she was weak.

She heard Rupert return to the machine next to her and she heard him again adjust the dials.

"Come on Scully. Tell me to stop. No one's gone this far on the first trial. Tell me to stop and I won't flip the switch." Ethan coaxed.

Scully was silent, resigned to her fate.

The pain was everywhere all at once. She was being burned alive. Her jaw clamped shut, preventing the scream that began low in her throat from escaping. Bright colors and bursts of white exploded behind her eyes and she was unable to breathe. Pinpricks of pain tore at her skin and wounded her body. Her blood boiled in her veins and just as the darkness was about

to claim her, the torture ended.

"You're killing her!" Mulder screamed, metal battling metal as his cuffs scraped across the bed frame. "Scully, tell him to stop, for God's sake tell him to stop."

"Ethan," Melinda walked to stand next to him. "You have to switch them. She's going to die. The voltage and the amps are too high. You're going to kill her too soon."

"Shut up!" Ethan hissed shoving Melinda away from Scully. "She will beg for her life, or she will die."

"If she dies, you'll never finish your research. They will send people out looking for them. They're from the FBI. We'll get caught."

"She will beg me for her life, or she will die." Ethan repeated, his eyes glazed with madness.

Melinda walked back to Mulder. She busied herself checking the read-outs from the various printers he was attached to.

"She won't beg him," Mulder said in a quiet, desperate voice to Melinda. "Scully won't beg."

"Then she will die." Melinda answered simply.

"Scully," Mulder pleaded. "Scully, just scream out. Scream out my name and it will be over. Just scream out my name," he begged.

Ethan gave her a moment to respond to Mulder's plea. When she didn't, he turned the electrical current on.

Mulder closed his eyes and tears escaped out from under both lids. He couldn't watch. He couldn't stand to see her body convulsing in pain and not be able to do anything about it. He heard the current being turned off followed by the audible _thump_ of her body falling back against the table.

Mulder opened his eyes. The sight of her made him wish that his own death would come sooner. Her skin was white. Her hair was matted against her head with sweat. Her eyes were still closed and her chest rose and fell unevenly as she tried to breathe.

"Help her." Mulder begged Melinda. "She doesn't deserve this. Why won't she stop him?"

"Because she knows that if she does, she'll have to watch you die."

"Scully," he yelled again. "Scully, open your eyes," he begged desperately. He couldn't let her die without her knowing the truth.

Her response was slow, but she opened her eyes and tried to focus them on him.

"Scully, I love you," he cried. "I should have told you long before this, but it's true. I need for you to make him stop hurting you. Make him stop, Scully."

Through the tears in his eyes he saw the small smile form on her lips and the tear run down her face. He was hopeful for an instant until he saw her turn her head away from him and close her eyes.

"Nice try," Ethan mocked, "but obviously not good enough."

He again adjusted the dials of the machine and threw the switch.

Mulder felt his throat constrict as he watched her body convulse once and then go still, the heart monitor next to her screaming a long steady, deadly wail.

"Scccullleee..." Mulder screamed out to her, begging her to return to him. Half his heart ripped out of his chest, half his mind left him and half his soul was replaced by a throbbing chasm filled only with anguish.

The skin ripped from his wrists, the metal tore into his flesh, as he tried to pull free. He didn't feel. He couldn't catch his breath, the air was being forcibly sucked from his lungs. He didn't think. He could only watch, more powerless than he had ever been before. His mind and mouth chanted her name in a desperate plea he believed she could still hear.

Scully's body stayed motionless on the exam table. Rupert struggled to get the table level. He opened her mouth and tried to blow life back into her body.

"What are you doing?" Melinda demanded.

She gave up trying to restrain Mulder and moved quickly to Ethan.

He worked frantically, performing CPR on Scully.

"Charge the defibrillator," he ordered her.

"Ethan, she's dead."

"That's why you need to charge the defibrillator," Rupert hissed.

"It's too late." Melinda insisted, trying to stop Ethan.

He reacted violently, pushing her to the floor and flipping the switch on the machine himself.

"If you're not going to help me, stay away from me." Rupert bellowed before returning to Scully. "This bitch is not going to beat me. She will beg me for her life. I'm not going to make this easy for her. I'm not going to just let her die. She's going to suffer before she dies."

Melinda watched him silently from where she lay on the floor. Standing, she walked to him and handed him the paddles he needed to save Scully's life. The paddles he needed to prolong her suffering.

The essence that was Scully joined and watched. Half rising from her, half rising from him. The body she knew was still as Rupert and Melinda worked over it. She was drawn not toward the body she needed to live, but toward the body that needed her to live. Mulder.

His eyes were filled with terror as he watched. His face wet with a combination of sweat and tears. His body bruised with the struggle of trying to free himself to save her.

She didn't want to leave him. She wasn't ready to leave him. She didn't understand why this time it had taken them so long to find each other. Why it had been so difficult. She wanted to comfort him. She wanted to promise him that next time it wouldn't be so hard. She wanted to tell him everything she felt for him now, while it was still clear.

She drifted toward him, wanting to soothe his suffering before she was forced to leave him. Suddenly, she was the one being ripped apart by the pain.

Rupert took the paddles from Melinda. Placing them on Scully's chest, he tried to start her heart. The monitor next to the bed ceased its long cadence and started a slow syncopated chirping.

Mulder watched her chest begin to rise and fall on its own. He closed his eyes and filled his own lungs with air. She was alive. Scully was alive.

It was hard for her to breathe, but she knew that she was lucky to be breathing. Her chest felt heavy and her skin stretched tightly over her bones, but she felt cold. There was no longer a hot stinging sensation over-coming her. Her body was trying to re-stabilize her temperature. She listened for a moment to the heart monitor. The beeps were getting stronger. Her breathing was becoming more regular, unlike the ragged intakes of breath she heard across from her.

She opened her eyes and saw...Mulder. The voice she heard, however, was Rupert's.

"Ready for round two?" He cackled with excitement.

She turned her face and met his gaze. Hate and loathing shot at him from her tired blue eyes.

"Now. Now." Rupert scolded. "Be grateful. I saved your life. But don't get too comfortable. I'm only going to take it again."

Melinda stepped between Ethan and Scully. She began to remove the restraints that were holding Scully to the table.

"What are you doing?" Ethan demanded.

"She needs to rest. You can't begin again right away. She has to get some of her strength back if she's going to be any good to us." Melinda explained, continuing to free Scully's wrists and ankles.

"Why are you letting her go?"

"Where's she going to go, Ethan? She's too weak to go anywhere." Melinda argued while she struggled to unfasten the waist restraint.

"What are you going to do with her?"

"I'm going to put her with him."

Rupert clamped his hands over Melinda's, effectively stopping her from completely freeing Scully.

"No you are not!" He shouted at her.

"Ethan. If you want her to beg for her life, which you obviously do, the only one who can get her to do that -- is him." Melinda gestured toward Mulder.

Rupert paused for a moment and then helped Melinda remove the restraint. Ethan grabbed Scully by the back of the neck and roughly pulled her off the table. Unable to get her balance, Scully crumpled to the floor.

"Dammit, Rupert! Haven't you done enough to her?" Mulder yelled.

"No Agent Mulder," Rupert snarled, literally stepping over Scully on the floor to get into Mulder's face. "I haven't done enough to her. I haven't done nearly enough to her." Rupert turned and grabbed Scully by the hair. She moaned as he pulled her to her feet. Melinda rushed to her and helped him to support her as Rupert pulled her to Mulder. "And if you do truly care about her, you'll use this time I'm giving you to teach her to beg," he spat.

Rupert pushed past Melinda and Scully and left the room, ripping the curtains down behind the now empty exam table.

Melinda waited until he was gone before lowering the bed Mulder was in to a horizontal position. Carefully, she helped a weakened Scully onto the bed with Mulder. Scully immediately curled her body around his, resting her head on his chest.

Melinda turned to leave the room.

"Melinda?" Mulder asked hopefully one last time.

She turned to him. Her face sorrowful, but her eyes empty. She shook her head and left the room.

Mulder ducked his head and rested his cheek on top of Scully's head.

"Scully," he whispered softly. "You are so stubborn. Why do you have to be so stubborn?" His voice broke on a half-choked sob. "Because if you weren't, you wouldn't be my Scully." Mulder said, answering his own question.

"Are they gone?" She asked, her voice so soft that he had to strain to hear her.

"Yes. It's just you and me."

Scully began to wiggle and squirm her way up Mulder's body and toward the top of the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving your ass," she said directly into his ear. "So then maybe you can get me the hell out of here."

"How are you going to open the cuffs?" He asked, now eye level with her navel.

"The key," she answered, opening her hand and revealing the small metal key. "Melinda gave it to me."

Scully reached up and unlocked the cuffs binding his wrists. Mulder carefully shifted Scully lower on the bed and began to unbuckle the belt holding his waist. Next he un-strapped his ankles and climbed off the bed. Tenderly he lifted Scully off the bed. Pulling the sheet from the mattress, he wrapped it around her tiny frame.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so," she answered honestly.

"Let's see what you can do."

Mulder lowered her to the floor, keeping a strong grip around her waist. She put weight on her feet and was thankfully able to stand.

He released her briefly, only to duck behind the bed and grab the gun that was on the table. She reached out and grabbed their badges, steadying herself by gripping the table.

"Only one," he reported to her, snaking his arm around her again and leading her to the door. He stopped only once to grab her shoes and help her to put them on.

They had almost reached the back door when Scully stumbled over the fallen curtain. Mulder bent to help her up unaware of his approach until the madman's knee forcibly connected with his stomach. Getting the upper hand, Rupert grabbed the gun and shoved Mulder to the floor.

* * *

**There. Ha. Is that a sufficient cliff hanger?**

**Deamon**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay. There is no daggon excuse for me not posting this earlier. I just...forgot. Sorry, y'all. My bad. Anywho, this is still rated PG-13 for a friggin bad word. The dirty-dirty comes soon. Hang in there, smut fans. You'll get a nice dosage. I'll keep this brief but I must say that I have to send out a big, humungo-jumbo shout-out to Ava. She listend to me ramble on and on until I got a good enough handle on "Bright Side." I am now free to work on other things. To some extent, at least. **

**Rating: PG-13 for bad f-bomb and dead people.  
Spoilers: Noooot really.  
Any other things?: Just a couple chapters left.**

**

* * *

**"Going somewhere? I think not!" He exploded, grabbing Scully by the arm and yanking her to her feet. Wobbly she stood next to him, the gun pressed to her back. "Move and I'll kill her," he warned Mulder. "Melinda!" The madman screamed. 

His wife hurried through the doorway, caught off guard by what she saw.

"Come here Melinda," he beckoned.

Melinda approached, hesitantly. She stood eye to eye with him.

"Help me get her back to the table."

Melinda turned to take Scully from him and was unprepared for the crashing blow as his fist connected with her cheekbone. She fell at his feet and Rupert viciously struck out with his foot and kicked her in the side.

"How did she get the key to the cuffs, Melinda? You almost ruined this whole night. Don't you understand," he pushed her toward Mulder with his foot. "Nothing matters but this. This experiment is the only thing that means anything to me, and you tried to take it away from me."

"Rupert!" Mulder warned, putting himself between Ethan and Melinda.

"Shut up!" He shouted. He pressed the gun more firmly into Scully's back causing her to wince in pain.

"You never understood. All these years of perfecting this procedure and you throw it away. You know how important this is. All those years in that lab, this is the only thing that kept me going. The only thing that made me want to get out of bed in the morning. The only thing I live for. You tried to take that away from me."

Rupert was becoming agitated again and Mulder watched him closely, waiting for an opportunity to strike. It came sooner than he thought it would. Mulder watched Rupert push Scully toward the exam table, her feet still tangled in the cords of the drapes on the floor. He bent with her to untangle her feet when Scully used as much strength as she could summon to elbow him in the throat.

Rupert was knocked off balance and that was the only opportunity Mulder needed to attack. Mulder leaped and threw Rupert to the floor. The gun skidded across the floor to the far end of the room. Scully fell to the side and while the two men struggled, she began to crawl toward the gun.

The two men battled on the floor. Just when Scully thought that Mulder had the upper hand, Rupert would rally. Mulder shoved Rupert hard with his hands to his chest and the older man flew backward, knocking over one of the many tables throughout the room.

The Bunsen burner crashed to the floor. The glass vial of liquid smashing into pieces and the flame igniting the curtain still hanging on the side wall. Rupert picked up a piece of the shattered vial and brandishing it as a weapon, he advanced toward Mulder. Backing away, Mulder accidentally pushed another beaker to the floor, torching the curtain on the opposite wall.

The room was rapidly filling with smoke and flame. Scully pushed herself forward to reach the gun, pausing she turned to see Rupert standing over Mulder holding the jagged glass. The smoke stung her eyes and as she turned away -- a gunshot exploded in the room.

Scully watched Rupert look down in surprise at the red stain spreading across the front of his lab coat. She looked up to see Melinda holding the gun, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm your husband," he shrieked at her as he fell to his knees.

"My husband's dead." She raised the gun and fired it at him a second time.

Rupert's body sagged to the floor. Mulder quickly approached Melinda.

"Melinda -- give me the gun," he requested holding his hand out to her. His voice was calm and steady, but his eyes revealed his apprehension as he watched the flames spread.

She looked away from Ethan's body and handed the gun to Mulder. The flames now covered three of the room's four walls and were licking hungrily at the ceiling. Mulder crouched down to the floor and helped Scully to her feet.

"Come on, there's only one way out of here." Melinda instructed, moving toward the door behind the exam table.

Flames rolled across the ceiling like storm-tossed waves across an indifferent sea. Mulder picked Scully up into his arms and rushed to the door. Melinda stopped briefly over Ethan's body.

"Do you want me to get him out?" Mulder asked her.

"No," she shook her head. "He belongs here."

Melinda led them through the dark basement corridors while the fire continued to spread, devouring the rotting structure. The smoke in the hallway was becoming thick.

"It's getting hot in here. Are you all right?" Scully asked her partner, fully aware of his fear of fire.

"I always said I would walk through fire for you if you needed me to, Scully. I just never thought you would take me literally." He spoke, his brow wrinkled in concentration as he traveled through the dark hall. This was one of his own many private versions of hell, trapped in a burning smoke-filled house. He fought against the over-whelming urge to give into the paralyzing fear. There was only one reason his brain continued to function and his legs continued to carry him forward -- the woman in his arms.

A flight of stairs brought them up to the ground floor of the house. The fire was already there, engulfing the hallway. Mulder clutched Scully tighter in his arms and followed Melinda toward the front door.

Melinda opened the door and held it open against the wind of the still raging storm. Mulder took Scully out onto the front porch and wrapped the sheet more tightly around her to shelter her from the sharp biting wind.

Mulder turned in time to see Melinda close to the front door of the house and lock herself inside.

"Melinda!" Mulder yelled above the storm. He stepped up next to the door and Melinda met his eyes through the smudged cracked glass window. She placed her hand on the glass. Scully reached out and put her hand on the outside of the glass -- opposite Melinda's. Scully met the woman's eyes. They were no longer void of emotion. Melinda's eyes brimmed with

determination, resignation -- and something else Scully didn't recognize at first, but then realized was peace.

"Let's go Mulder. She's not going to leave him."

Mulder took one last look at the woman behind the glass and stepped off the porch into the storm. He carried Scully down the broken sidewalk and didn't turn around until they had reached the road.

He saw the flames inside the windows of the house. Pulling Scully closer to him, he turned and headed up the hill back to the car. He hoped the house burned all the way to hell.

The rain beat against the gravel and water ran in streams down the road. Mulder trudged up the hill, fighting the storm. Scully shivered in his arms.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"The car. It'll be dry and we can get your bag and you can change. I need to figure out a way to get you to a hospital. I'll drive on the rims if I have to."

"No hospital, Mulder." Scully insisted.

"You're going to the hospital."

"Mulder, my life has revolved around hospitals." Scully pulled her hand out from under the wet sheet and cupped his cheek. "I don't want to go to a hospital. Not tonight."

"You can barely walk."

Scully struggled to get out of his arms, wanting to prove him wrong. His arms only tightened around her.

"Fine, no hospital. Hold still."

She settled against his chest again and Mulder continued his journey to the car.

Once there he carefully put Scully in the back seat and grabbed their bags and the emergency first aid kit from the trunk. Climbing in the back seat next to her, he closed the door.

"Jesus, Scully, do you think we've ever been this wet?"

"Cold," she muttered, her teeth chattering loudly.

"I know. We need to get you warmed up."

"Too bad we don't have one of those sleeping bags." Scully eyed him coyly, her eyes peeking up above the wet sheet.

Mulder turned and grinned at the memory before rummaging through her bag for some dry clothes.

"Remind me when I get back to DC that my first trip is to an army surplus store."

Mulder gave up searching through her bag and pulled a sweatshirt from his bag. He unwrapped the sheet from around her and threw it on the floor of the car. He helped her into the sweatshirt, rolling up the sleeves for her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Any time."

Mulder climbed into the front seat, Scully trying not to grin at him as his head hit the top of the car. He turned the key in the ignition. The car sputtered and then was silent. He turned the key again -- again the car sputtered and died.

"Do you think it's flooded?" Scully asked from behind him.

Mulder scowled at the pun and glanced at her in the rear view mirror. She was quite a sight, wet hair, bundled up in his sweatshirt -- beautiful.

Still looking in the mirror, Mulder saw the flashing red and blue lights of a squad car pulling up behind them.

"Still got our badges in your pocket?"

Scully handed him his badge and he took it from her, holding her hand for a long moment.

"I'll be right back," he promised her.

Scully watched Mulder get out of the car before she lay her head back and rested.

After a couple of minutes Mulder opened the back door and grabbed their bags.

"Do we need anything else?"

Scully was silent, her eyes closed.

"Scully?"

Mulder dropped the bags and crawled across the seat to her.

"Hmmm..." she muttered not opening her eyes. "I'm so tired, Mulder."

Mulder let out a sigh of relief and passed the three bags to the sheriff standing behind him in the rain.

"I know you're tired, Scully. You go ahead and sleep." Mulder gathered her up into his arms and carried her to the awaiting squad car. He climbed in the backseat and held Scully in his lap.

"Agent Mulder?" The sheriff questioned.

"We need to get her to the nearest hospital," he said before settling back in the seat and tucking her head beneath his chin.

--- ---

But still it rained. The thunder and lightning had made peace with each other, but still it rained. The sun had set several hours ago, replacing the gray sky with a deep, dark black. The moon -- although not as full as it had been two nights ago -- was beginning to appear through the clouds.

The wipers pushed the water from the windshield of the squad car, occasionally squeaking against the glass.

Sheriff Monroe was idly making conversation by filling Scully in on what had occurred during her absence as he drove.

"The fire department and a rescue squad got out to the house. The structure itself was still standing, probably due to the rain, but the inside of the house was gutted by the fire. We didn't find any survivors, and hell, we wouldn't have found any of the bodies for a good day or two if it hadn't been for Agent Mulder. He led us to the two in what used to be the lab. It was a bit trickier to find the rest. It will be a long identification process. We're going to start by trying to match the people reported missing with the remains of those we found. I still can't believe..."

The sheriff continued to speak and Mulder tried to concentrate on what the man was saying, but all of his concentration was focused on Scully.

He could see her out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting as far away from him as the limited space in the backseat of the car allowed. Her shoulder was pressed against the window of the door. Her back was ram-rod straight, her shoulders squared, her arms crossed, her chin set, her lips pursed and her eyes looking only straight forward. He knew that the position she was stubbornly holding must be hurting her tired body a great deal. He had realized that the decision he made would have ramifications, but he hadn't expected this. Scully was furious, and he was the source of her anger.

She had spent thirty-six hours in the hospital. Scully hadn't spoken two civil words to him since she had woken up in the emergency room bay. In his own defense, he justified, he hadn't _promised_ her that he wouldn't take her to the hospital.

When he had been sure she was in good hands, he had joined the fire department back at the house. At least there he had felt like he could be of some help.

The doctors had poked and prodded. They had run tests and taken her blood. They had deemed her very lucky to be alive and against their recommendations, she had signed herself out. Mulder wasn't sorry that he had taken her to the hospital, but the look on her face told him that he would be.

The sheriff slowed the car and pulled up in front of the local motel he had suggested.

"Agent Mulder, I called ahead and John said he would have the rooms ready for you. You just need to pick up the keys. Unfortunately, the electricity is still out in the area. They hope to have it back up by morning."

"I'm sure it will be fine. I'll get the keys and be right back."

Mulder opened the car door and looked hopefully at Scully -- her eyes stayed focused straight ahead.

Getting out of the car, Mulder ran through the rain and into the motel office. John, as promised, was waiting. Mulder signed for the rooms and took the keys. He walked back outside into the rain and saw Scully standing under a nearby awning, their suitcases and the first aid kit from the car at her feet.

"Where is Sheriff Monroe?" Mulder asked, ducking under the shelter with her.

"He got a call," she answered simply. "He said he would make sure the garage delivers the car tomorrow."

"He just left you here?" Mulder asked, angry at the man's thoughtlessness.

"Mulder, I told him to go," Scully explained, her words curt. She carefully bent and picked up the emergency kit, the smaller of the three bags. "Where are the rooms?"

"Over there," Mulder pointed across the parking lot to an adjacent set of rooms. He scanned the area and saw that the only way to the rooms was across the lot -- out in the rain. Scully came to the same conclusion. She stepped out from under the awning. Wearily and with caution, she began walking across the pavement. Mulder lifted her bag and put the strap over his shoulder. He picked up his suitcase and in three steps he caught up to Scully. He put his free hand in the small of her back and slowly they walked through the rain.

She felt his familiar touch and although she was still angry with him, it comforted her. The rain washed over her skin. The pain-killers the doctor had insisted she take were beginning to have an effect. She was becoming disoriented and it was taking all of her concentration to continue moving forward. She knew Mulder could have easily crossed the lot faster than they were currently moving. She was grateful that he stayed by her side.

It wasn't that he had taken her to the hospital that made her angry. No matter how much she had wanted to deny it -- she had needed a doctor. It was that he had done it without any respect for her wishes. He didn't take her to the hospital because _she_ needed to go; he took her because _he_ needed her to go. If she stopped being angry at him for long enough she knew she would realize that she was being irrational, but if she stopped being angry she would have time to think about what had almost happened. It was easier being angry.

They reached the door to the room that would be hers. Scully rested against the door frame and watched Mulder open the door. She had an idea of how guilty she was making him feel -- his teeth had been working over-time on his bottom lip since she woke up in the hospital.

Mulder set their bags inside the room and held out his hand to help her inside. Scully slowly crossed the threshold, ignoring Mulder's offering of assistance.

She stepped past him and sat down on the bed, her muscles screaming at the exertion from just the short walk. She watched Mulder step into the bathroom and retrieve a towel. She took it and tried to dry her hair and blot some of the excess water from Mulder's sweatshirt, which she still wore.

Mulder moved about the room, lighting a candle and setting it on the bed-side table. She turned her head when she no longer heard his movements. Mulder was standing next to the bed, silent. After a moment, he lifted his hands to his hips and walked to stand in front of her.

"You would have done the same thing," he insisted. "If the situation had been reversed, you would have done the same thing. I had to know that you were going to be all right."

She sighed, closing her eyes. She didn't want to fight with him. After everything they had been through -- she didn't want to fight with him. She let out a long deep breath, letting her anger travel from her with it. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"You're right. I would have done the same thing," she admitted. "You were right to take me to the hospital.

He watched her for a moment -- things with Scully usually weren't this easy. He nodded his assertion.

"Mulder?" Scully glanced around the room and toward his bag. "If you just checked us into the motel, where did you sleep last night?"

"The chair outside your hospital room," he answered shyly.

It was her turn to be silent at his admission.

"Scully, you're supposed to be resting. I can tell the medication is making you tired."

"I need to take a shower," she decided, thinking out loud.

Scully tried to stand. It was on her second failed attempt that she felt his hand on her arm helping her off the bed.

"Thanks," she muttered, angry at herself for being so weak. Unsteady in her movements, Scully felt Mulder's hand remain on her arm. "Mulder, you're hovering," she accused, the bitterness toward her own weakness suddenly misdirected at him. She regretted her words the instant she looked into his eyes.

Mulder looked down at her, his feelings in turmoil. Frustration and anger took momentary control of his demeanor. He abruptly released her arm and turned his back on her.

"I watched you die," he began softly. "I watched you die and there was nothing I could do about it. I had to watch him hurt you...again...and again...and again." His voice grew in intensity and volume but his words were broken. He turned to face her then, his eyes wet with unshed tears but also full of animosity at her for not understanding that he needed to be the one to take care of her now. "Excuse the fuck out of me if I hover!"

The air was charged with intensity. Tension that broke only when Mulder brought his hands to his face and hung his head filled the room.

"I'm sorry, Scully. So sorry," he muttered through his fingers as he shook his head in remorse for yelling at her.

She reached out to him and laced her fingers with his, pulling his hand away from his face.

"It's ok, Mulder. I'm going to be fine. It's over. It's all over."

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her close to him. He held her and felt her arms circle his waist. It was over. Suddenly, all the energy drained from his body and he was over come with what he might have lost.

"I don't know what I would have done," he said stumbling over the words. "I can't imagine life..."

Scully pulled away from him. Reaching up, she placed her hand behind his neck and pulled his head down so that she could kiss his forehead.

"Don't imagine," she whispered against his skin. She tangled her hand in his hair and he rested his head on her shoulder. They stood like that for several minutes before she pulled away from him.

"Mulder, I'm so tired. We both need to get into some dry clothes and get some sleep." Mulder nodded his head, tucking a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. "But first, I need to take a shower. Could you please put my bag in the bathroom?"

He squeezed her hand and picked up her bag from the floor. He took the bag and another candle into the bathroom for her. She kicked her shoes off her feet, balancing by holding onto a nearby chair. She walked as quickly as her battered body would allow her toward the bathroom. Mulder stepped out into the room.

"Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you," she replied honestly, smiling at him as she walked into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her.

Mulder turned down the blankets on her bed and unlocked her side of the adjoining doors. He picked up his bag and went back out into the rain. Using his key, he let himself into his room, identical to hers. Throwing his bag on the bed, he immediately unlocked his door adjoining her room. He opened both doors and began stripping off his own wet clothing. When all of his clothes, except his boxers, lay in a wet heap on the floor, he unzipped his bag and removed his running shorts, a t-shirt and another pair of boxers.

"Mulder?" Her voice was muffled by the closed door but his senses were instantly aware of her. He quickly crossed the distance to the door of her bathroom.

"Scully?"

"Mulder...I need your help."

Her voice sounded small and he didn't hesitate to open the door.

* * *

**There you go. All done. For now. Until I finish some other things, at least. Oh well. **


	7. Chapter 7

**THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER!!! Damn, I'm so sorry about how long it took to get this out. Don't even get me started on all the parental blocks that my mother put up on the home computer making it nearly impossible to even access this story (not to mention nearly EVERYTHING I READ) what does that say about me, do you think? Must be a smut-junkie. Hmm. Never knew that... O.O**

**So here you go. Last chapter. Once again: apologies and this isn't my story.**

* * *

The room was dark when she woke again, silent. She looked around and realized that she was alone. The door to Mulder's room was open a crack and shadowed light filtered onto the carpet of her room. Carefully she sat up in bed, prepared for the pain that thankfully never came. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Putting weight on her feet, she stood up. A little unsteady at first, she quickly gained her balance. She walked toward the light in Mulder's room.

She could see him through the crack in the door. He was stretched out on the bed, files spread out all around him, glasses perched on his nose. He looked deeply engrossed in the particular file he held on his lap. Though Scully pushed lightly on the door, a loud creak announced her presence. Mulder looked up from the file and smiled when he saw her.

"Finding us everything interesting?" She asked, looking from his eyes down to the file he held in his hand.

"A couple of ritual masses in New England, dancing naked under the full moon -- it's that time of year," he shrugged.

"Naked under a haunted moon," she corrected.

"Haunted moon," he nodded, smiling. "Do you need anything?" He asked, setting the file on the bedside table and placing his glasses on top of the file.

"I just woke up and you weren't there," she explained.

"I didn't want the light to wake you. How are you feeling?"

"Better, but I still feel like I could sleep for a month," she admitted.

"I was about ready to turn the light off myself." Mulder yawned.

"Oh, all right. I'll see you in the morning." Scully said turning to go back to her room.

"Goodnight." Mulder called to her, turning off the bedside light.

The darkness of the two rooms engulfed her. Scully hesitated and then stepped back into Mulder's room.

"Mulder?"

"Yes," he answered, curious.

"Nevermind...Goodnight."

Scully walked back to her bed, damning herself as she climbed under the blankets and sank back into the pillow. She knew all she had to do was ask him, yet she couldn't. The memory of all the nights she suffered alone visited her as if they were ghosts of the past. It was her turn, her move, and after everything they had just been through, she couldn't understand what was stopping her.

Mulder stared through the darkness at the door she had just exited.

An inner battle was raging between his heart and his head. His gut won again and he threw the blankets off the bed and stood up. He had followed her out into that hallway, he could damn well follow her now. He found himself hoping the outcome this time would be more satisfying.

He quietly walked from his room into hers. Striding across the floor, he climbed into bed next to her.

"I thought I would sleep better over here," he explained, hoping he read her hesitation correctly.

"I think we'll both sleep better," she whispered, thanking him.

Scully lay perfectly still in the dark. The dark. Darkness covers a multitude of sins -- she said that to Mulder once. In horror movies, darkness summons the creatures of the night. In literature, it sometimes represents evil. Tonight, the darkness was giving her the courage she needed.

Mulder heard her hand sliding over the sheets. He reached out and took it.

"Mulder, I have a confession to make," she admitted solemnly, her voice filling the room.

"You're a really big fan of the ice capades and you've just been afraid to tell me?" He quipped.

Scully was silent, unsure of whether or not to continue. His hand

squeezed hers in a silent apology.

"What's your confession?" He asked her softly.

"When OPR transferred me to Salt Lake City, and I resigned...do you know why I did that?"

"You were tired of the red-tape bullshit?"

"That's what I told Skinner. That's what I told you. I think when I said it even I believed that was the reason. I've had time to think about it since then."

"Why did you quit, Scully?"

"When I was re-assigned, I quit because I couldn't leave you. If I quit the bureau, I could stay in DC and I would be near you."

Mulder rewarded her courage by bringing her hand to his lips, kissing the back softly.

She wasn't done.

"That day in the hallway, you told me that I made you a whole person. I can do that Mulder, because I wasn't a whole person until I met you. We make each other whole." Her voice was strong and steady. "I think that's why it's taken me so long to tell you. I fought against the idea that I needed you. I didn't want to need you. I didn't want to _need_ anyone. I can't fight it anymore. I do need you, Mulder. You told me that you loved me. I wasn't strong enough to tell you then, but I am now. I love you too."

Mulder rolled onto his side, facing her. Scully reached out with her hand and stroked his face. Tears sprang to her eyes when she found his cheek wet with emotion.

"When I was strapped to the table, when Rupert played that video tape of you holding me," Scully's voice began to break and Mulder's lips pressed against the inside of her palm. "I knew that was what I wanted. I knew that if I died that would be what I missed. I don't want to miss anything anymore, Mulder."

The tears were flowing freely from her eyes when Mulder pulled her into his arms. He tenderly stroked her forehead and her cheeks with the softness of his lips.

He held her tightly while she gave into the sorrow that had built up over the last three days. She let go of the pain Rupert had caused her, finally feeling strong enough to face the hurt.

Mulder urged her to cry, to sob until she couldn't anymore. He whispered words of truth - words of love- softly into her ear.

Gradually her sobs turned to gasps and finally to hiccups, until she was able to breath normally again. Mulder rolled onto his back, still cradling Scully in his arms. She rested her head on his chest as he rhythmically ran his hand up and down her back, soothing her into sleep.

"You sleep," he quietly whispered, rubbing her back.

"I do love you," she pledged softly.

"And I love you," he breathed.

Soon her breathing slowed to a deep even rhythm. He still held her, his heart swelling with her words. Insecurity creeped into his joy, only to be pushed firmly away. She believed in him. She had stood by him for five years. She loved him.

Peacefully, Mulder fell asleep holding Scully in his arms, knowing that she loved him.

- - -

Fox Mulder was dreaming. But unlike the usual images that haunted his sleep, this dream he wanted to cling to -- until it became a reality. The feminine smile was enticing, teasing, familiar. The woman moved close, then backed away. She appeared again as if in a fog, near once more, her hair of flame curling around his fingers. Sliding his hand from her hair and letting it drift down the length of her, he stopped when he felt silken skin beneath his fingertips.

Then he heard a feminine moan of pleasure. It lasted only a moment. Hovering between sleep and wakefulness, Mulder pulled himself far enough away from the dreamy haze to know where he was, and who was beside him. Again, he glided his hand down the smoothness that he recognized had been Scully's thigh, and with lazy pleasure, ran his fingers up it again. And again, she sighed with the sound of desire.

"Scully?" He murmured.

Scully didn't want to answer and end the fantasy she'd been drifting under. Until this moment, she'd been able to keep her eyes closed. Needs she had ignored, fantasies that she had never admitted to, desire that she had never allowed bombarded her, promising to shatter her senses.

Deep inside her, a curl of something dangerous began to unwind. A white-hot thread of awareness began to uncoil in the pit of her stomach.

Scully opened her eyes and looked up into the windows of the soul that seemed intent on devouring her.

"Mulder," she began, her voice breathless with need. "I think..."

"Shh..." Mulder's fingers gently, provocatively, stroked her lips. "Don't think."

Her heartbeat staggered, stopped, then started again. This time for all the right reasons. She held her breath as he bent his head toward hers. Finally. A kiss. His mouth on hers. No interruptions. Finally.

The moment his lips met hers, she knew. This wasn't just a kiss. This was an invasion.

His mouth came down on hers with a raw hunger she had never experienced before. Brilliant light exploded within her in a sunburst of color and sensation. He did not seek to slowly seduce -- there was nothing leisurely about his kiss. His lips took and consumed hers, ravaged them. He did not seek a subtle entry to her mouth. Instead, his tongue plunged between her lips and teeth and demanded the sweetness he knew he would find there.

Their lips met again and again, open-mouthed, in hungry, wet kisses. Kisses that melded their lips and their bodies. Kisses that brought the searing heat from their lips to burn deep into the heart of their unleashed passion and spread throughout the rest of their bodies.

His lips trailed from hers to touch her earlobes and her cheeks, to rest against her pulse and travel onward along the length of her collarbone.

The things he did with his tongue...

Unwilling to relinquish his lips to the rest of her body quite yet she guided him back to her mouth. She returned his kiss, eager for it, met the fever of his pace, gasped and sought him again and again when he broke away to circle her lips erotically, slowly, with the rim of his tongue.

She shivered slightly, for when his mouth did not touch her, she was cold.

She shivered in his arms and he knew the coolness of the air had nothing to do with the chills wracking her. He felt it too. The sense of rightness. The sense of belonging. For the first time in a long, lonely life, he felt loved. He would make sure that she too felt loved.

Her touch sent daggers of heat slicing through him, illuminating he dark corners of his soul like the light from a thousand suns.

Reaching for her, he enfolded her in his arms, pulling her tightly to him. Her tender flesh molded to his. He realized how well she fit in the circle of his arms. She made him whole. She had always made him whole. As if she had been made for him. He knew that just as certainly he had been made for her.

His breath came harsh and fast. Anticipation threatened to strangle him.

Life was precious and rare. It could be snatched away at a moment's notice, snuffed out in a heartbeat. She wanted to feel she was alive, and Mulder sensed that as well, and gave her access to his body. He held nothing back.

Time and reality fell away. His kisses became deeper, more demanding. He used his hands and his mouth to give her what she wanted; what she needed. Heat. Passion. Life. Continuity. Love.

She opened her mouth to him and took his breath as her own.

Her breathing shallow and fast, Scully snaked her hand beneath his t-shirt and stroked her palm down his chest and watched his eyes fill with want.

He looked at her, hunger etched into his features, but hints of hesitation still in his eyes. Apparently he was waiting, giving her the opportunity to change her mind if she wanted to. She felt him pull away, put a little physical distance between them.

"How do you feel?"

Scully reached out her hand and cupped his face. His eyes had become speckled with doubt. She sighed. Only Mulder. Only her Mulder could let his own self-doubt overshadow the inevitability of this moment.

"Like I'll explode if you stop touching me. Touch me, Mulder," she urged softly.

She watched the emotion in his eyes shift and change, darkening with the passion they had been denied for years.

Mulder wrapped his arms around her waist and held on as if it meant the difference between living and dying.

His lips took hers. His tongue darted in and out of her mouth, making breathing impossible and stirring her senses so that she didn't even mind.

She felt his kiss and his need down to her soul.

At last, they were willing to explore the magic that happened between them whenever they were close. Her body burned with desire. Her flesh tingled from his caresses and a damp, aching heat settled between her thighs.

A hunger rose up between them that demanded to be fed. Gasping for breath in between long, deliberate kisses, they stripped each other of their clothing.

His body throbbed and ached to become a part of her. Everything within him screamed at him to take her. He knew that she too felt the almost overpowering desire to become one. He had never known such need. His groin tightened. His lungs shuddered, barely able to draw enough breath. He hungered for her. Deep in his soul, he recognized that they had been waiting for this woman his entire life.

In one dark corner of her mind, she realized that she was spinning out of control, but she didn't care. She wanted to be closer to him. To feel his lean, muscled form pressed to her.

He grabbed her again and pulled her tight against him. Flesh to flesh, heat to heat, the fire already raging between them burst into an inferno of passion.

She had thought that his kiss could sooth the ache within her and help extinguish the blaze that had been burning in her for so very long. Now it seared a trail so hot that it denied her all thought. All she knew was longing. Her soul was on fire, her body was on fire. She wanted to touch him, to run her fingers over the breadth of his shoulders, to press her lips against his chest. Most of all, she wanted to appease the longing inside her. She wanted the emptiness to be filled.

Hungrily he feasted upon her body. The brush of his fingers and the warmth of his tongue raged over the mounds of her breasts, explored contours of creamy skin, and set fire to the pebble-like peaks of rouge and crimson that tautened instantly at his touch.

Hungrily she tasted him in turn, pressing her lips to his shoulders, his throat, and softly, wetly, drew patterns down the muscles of his chest.

Her insides twisted, jumbled into a quivering mass of need as he teased his mouth slowly down her body. Down past her breasts, trailing over her stomach and stopping between her thighs. Scully's fingers curled into the cotton blanket beneath her. Mouth dry, breath coming in short, jagged gasps, she watched, entranced, as Mulder bent his head and took her with his mouth.

At the first touch of his tongue, Scully gasped aloud and jerked in his arms. He didn't stop. His breath brushed against her skin, his lips danced over the soft, delicate folds of her center as his tongue moved in strong strokes across the heart of her sex.

Twisting and writhing in his strong grasp, there was no escape, even if she wanted one. She whispered his name brokenly, hardly daring to draw a breath.

His mouth tormented and delighted her. His hands invaded and adored. She drifted helplessly, reaching for the peace she knew waited for her at the end of this exquisite agony. And though she wanted -- needed -- the climax hurtling toward her, she didn't want his ministrations to end.

Forcing herself to look at him, Scully stared through lust-glazed eyes at the man caressing her so intimately. Clearly sensing her gaze on him, Mulder lifted his head, abandoning her briefly, as if to let her see the full measure of love shining in his eyes.

Her heart filled with him and beat strongly against her chest. She drew a long, shaky breath. He dipped his head once more and when his mouth covered her, the night splintered around her. Her world rocked, tipped on its side and threatened to send her crashing over the edge. But she was held, safe in the arms of the man she had loved for years.

Before the last ribbon of satisfaction unwound inside of her, Mulder returned to her mouth. Her lips parted for him and her tongue met his stroke for stroke. In a wild, desperate joining, their mouths mated, breath mingling, tongues exploring, caressing movements meant to sooth yet at the same time enflame.

Pulling away, Scully, with Mulder's help, rolled him onto his back and straddled his waist. The look in her eyes brought a smile of anticipation to his lips. It was Scully's turn to play.

He felt her fingers upon his naked flesh and marveled at the touch, shuddering as the hot fires of desire snaked through him.

In the days to come, he would remember this night, remember it with aching poignancy, and he would tremble anew, thinking of all that he held in his arms. For in all the years when they had watched each other and waited, he had never imagined this.

She had said that she loved him. And in that, he had never known a feeling more exquisite, never known a power so great. She was sensual, intelligent, elegant, and beautiful. In his life, he had never seen himself as worthy the love she gave him.

She stroked his chest, her fingers playing down his ribs. She nibbled against his lower lip, then rose to meet him in a wild and sweet open-mouthed kiss that drove almost all his demons from him.

And still she loved and teased and taunted him with tender kisses upon his skin, exotic, erotic, decadent kisses. Moving lower and lower against him, she touched the pulsing fullness of his sex with her mouth.

Lightly at first, with kisses that were so soft that they tormented him nearly to hell -- or was it heaven. He reached out to her, unable to bear the bursting sensation, when suddenly she closed her lips hard around him, and in all his life he had never felt so searing an explosion of pure want.

The wanting within his eyes touched her as no aphrodisiac could.

Mulder sat up in bed, his arms grasping for her, his mouth needing her. She met him, leaned against him and felt his body, hard and eager.

Desperately, hungrily, his tongue moved in and out of her mouth, touching, tasting. He held her mouth with his as if trying to claim her for his own. She met his urgency with a wild, overwhelming passion that threatened to leave her puddled on the bed. When he finally tore his mouth from hers, Scully moaned at the loss.

There were words at last, words that touched her flesh in hot whispers. They told her that she was beautiful. They told her that she belonged to him. Words of love...and words of raw hunger.

"Now Mulder," she pleaded in an agonized whisper. "Hurry. I have to feel you inside me, Mulder. I need..." Her voice faded into silence. How could she possibly explain what she needed when she hardly understood it herself? This was more than desire. More than lust. Something within her was clamoring to be a part of him. To feel him slide his body into hers. She had never known such want.

Suddenly he was atop her, his arms around her. His eyes upon her, he held himself above her. Mulder gently pushed his body into hers. With deep, long, hard strokes, he claimed her; driving her into a mad rush toward an orgasm even more fulfilling than the last. A cry welled up within her, touched her lips, but never escaped her.

Scully's fingers dug into his shoulders. Her head tipped back. She wrapped her legs around his hips, crossing her feet at the ankles, pulling him harder, more closely to her. Each thrust stroked something deep within her, something she hadn't even known existed.

She buried her face against his throat, pulling tighter and tighter against him. Arching. Twisting. Feeling him with all her length, inside and out. He was moving much too slow, torturously slow, pressing her back and watching her eyes as he moved against her, seeming to burn inside her until he touched her womb, her heart, her very soul.

She hungered, she wanted, she ached. The sweetness, the ecstasy filled her until she thought she would die with it, that she must explode.

And then, he was nearly still, rigid, taut. He teased her so slowly, then with startling speed he filled all of her again. He withdrew and filled her once again, hard.

Again, she almost cried out. But his lips were there, and he kissed her, his tongue ravishing her mouth to steal sound away. While the pulsing shaft of his body moved as hard and hot as molten steel deep into her, one long, slow stroke -- sinking -- staying there.

He held perfectly still, buried deep inside her, fighting for control. An explosive climax was only a breath away and he would be damned if he would give into the pleasure before she was ready to take that leap with him.

In the space of a few heartbeats, he was able to move within her again. And then there was nothing but the overpowering, driving urge to brand her as his. To fill her so deeply, so completely, that even when they weren't together, he would still be a part of her, as she was a part of him.

Mulder looked down into her blue eyes and saw the stunned wonder he knew was written on his own features. He pressed his mouth to hers and their bodies raced toward completion. He swallowed her cries when they were at last swept over the edge of passion and fell tumbling into peace as he poured all that he was into her waiting warmth.

Mulder groaned again as he pulled her into the circle of his arms. He lowered his mouth to hers like a dying man seeking salvation. No point in denying the truth to himself. He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her.

Hours blurred together. The rest of the night passed in a flurry of lovemaking that only seemed to feed the fires burning between them. Every time Mulder thought he was exhausted and beyond experiencing any more, Scully showed him differently.

Exhaustion claimed them just before sunrise. Scully curled up next to Mulder and rested her head on his chest. Before the steady rhythm of his heartbeat could lull her into sleep, she heard him whisper her name.

"Dana?"

"Yes," she answered sleepily.

"Promise me something?"

"If I can," she answered honestly.

"Promise me that the next time there's a haunted moon," he kissed the top of her head. "You and I will lock ourselves inside and spend the night like this."

"I promise."

Mulder heard the smile in her voice and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. As the sun rose outside, the lovers fell asleep in each other's arms. Safe. Together they were complete. They were whole.

The end


End file.
